#౨ৎ — 𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓈!

[pinkmirth]

KEEPER!

SYNOPSIS! ⸻ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?

CONTAINS⸻ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

MY LOVE LETTER! ⸻ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎

reiner’s your bulking shadow, never trailing too far behind.

he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.

things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.

nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?

it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.

before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.

‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.

reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.

what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.

“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”

you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.

“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”

you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.

reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.

eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.

you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.

but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .

reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.

he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.

you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.

so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.

your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.

it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.

you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.

“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .

he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.

���reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.

“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.

“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”

“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”

“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”

right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.

see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.

upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.

upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.

it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.

you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?

the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.

“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.

“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”

in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.

“oh, please do.”

being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.

there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”

“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .

��you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.

mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.

“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.

experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.

“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.

“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.

“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.

by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.

reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.

as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.

“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.

“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.

you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.

“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.

he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.

“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.

reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”

not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.

he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.

“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.

“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.

“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.

“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.

reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.

“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.

“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.

“yes, tonight, rei!”

he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—

“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”

©PINKMIRTH! . . . all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ୨୧

[pinkmirth]

i need more cowboi reiner tryna knock u up pls 🥺 👉 👈

⸻ STUFFED!

SYNOPSIS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ reiner just can’t seem to control how hungry he is for you. what better way to make you his than by stuffing you full of him?

CONTAINS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 2.5k+ words of . . . ) cowboy!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, countryside setting, established relationship, reiner has a big fat breeding kink, sex flashbacks, doggie style, standing sex, creampie, use of pet names (ex. mama, sugar, honey), reader calls reiner ‘papa’, mentions of pregnancy, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

MY LOVE NOTE! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ it’s undeniable that cowboy reiner’s got a raging breeding kink. thanks so much for sending in your thoughts, my love! now here’s rei-rei bein’ a shameless feen for his pretty girl! 🎀

reiner’s terribly distracted.

the last thing he wants to do is lay blame, but in a way, you’re the reason why. the mere thought of you is enough to make this cowboy go buckwild. rei-rei swears he usually has more self control, it’s just that you strip him of all common sense.

you, pretty little you, make him all scatterbrained. his head’s been filled with nothing but romantics and vulgarities ever since he took you on a date seven months ago. you’ve turned him into some fool in love, for goodness’ sake.

memories of last night’s escapades come to mind. his mouth practically waters when remembering your plush ass; how you tossed it onto his pelvis with an arching back and swaying tits, peering at him with the sultriest smile, not to mention those glimmering bedroom eyes of yours. he recalls having to hold you still, so you wouldn’t be able to squirm away if his pounding were to become too much. you were soft, he remembers, so soft. the flesh of your hips would squish beneath the imposing pressure of his callous fingers, digging tighter into your sides whenever you’d flutter around the girth of him. he remembers the way he came inside with a rumbly moan, leaving your pussy full and the sheets wet . . . he wants to do it all over again.

with all that’s going on in that perverse little mind of his, he can hardly bring himself to focus on feeding the cattle. the only thing that can solve his problem is its source; you. and just like that, reiner’s dropping whatever he’d been doing before. his chores can surely wait, but this surge of desire can’t be overlooked. not a thing matters as much as finding you, fucking you, filling you.

he rounds the barn, passes by the apple trees and the horse stables in search of you. his cock pulses with every step, prodding stubbornly against the soft cotton of his boxers, now smeared with sticky precum. reiner brings a hand down to provide himself some relief, palming his boner with a low grunt. he’s so fucking hard that it almost hurts. that’s what he gets for fantasizing about you for the past thirty minutes and doing nothing about it until now.

with heavy steps, reiner makes his entrance into the farmhouse and is met by the sight of you lounging in the living room. you’re seated on the floral-print recliner with your pedicured toes propped up, all nice and comfortable. you’re wearing the dainty string of pearls he bought you for your birthday earlier in the year. pride flushes throughout his chest when seeing how prettily it rests on your collarbone.

you greet your man with a glossy smile, one that makes his dick throb beneath his hay-specked coveralls. reiner wonders if you’ve taken note of just how red he looks, rosy heat scattered across his face, from the highs of his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. he can feel his skin blazing with complete and total need.

reiner elicits a weak mumble of ‘hey, sugar. . .’, a stark contrast to your tone being all light and cheery as you ramble on about the cute little mini-skirt you’re crocheting for yourself. ‘since the weather’s getting warmer,’ you chime.

reiner loves you. he really, truly does, but he simply isn’t in the headspace to pay mind to the mundane task you’re occupied with at the moment— not when he’s this close to tearing off your summer dress, bending you over, peeling himself out of his spurred boots and pumping you full of every drop of cum he has to offer. fuck, he’s breathing harder now. gradually, he feels his resolve slip.

“you alright, honey?” you set down your crocheting hook, staring up at him with big, curious eyes. your voice, soft and consoling, grounds him just a little. reiner pulls off his signature cowboy hat, sets it on the nearby coffee table, and ruffles his hair so it falls into place. “yeah, i’m just—“ a pause amidst his sigh. truthfully, he’s here because he wants to fuck you pregnant. “i wanted t’see you, is all.” he settles on saying that instead. it’s much sweeter, all the more more romantic. less fetish-y. you probably would’ve looked at him funny if he admitted to crossing the entire farm by foot just so he could fill you up.

“aw, rei! you were missin’ me?” you laugh out of flattery. oh, your reiner. he’s so sweet in his own right. your boyfriend wants to ‘see you’, as he claims, like he hadn’t woken you up with nibbles to your neck, taken a (somewhat long, fairly busy) shower with you this morning, and ate breakfast alongside you before heading off to tend to the farm. you assume he can’t help but cling to you and want more.

it’s sudden, but welcomed, how reiner closes in on you. he draws near like a magnet, until the space between you no longer exists. he’s crouching down to the level of the chair, hovering over you to press a kiss on your lips. “mhm. missed you so bad, mama,” he mumbles against your mouth. in reply, you whisper onto his lips, something about how he’s always ‘so eager.’ he leans into you, desperate for more, and the chair creaks underneath the addition of his weight. he’s a large man, anyone can tell. his brawny build and imposing height never fail to make you feel safe underneath him. 

reiner dips his head low and plants one, two, three sloppy kisses along your warm neck, and it gets you hotter than the southern heat. he leaves saliva in his wake, trailed by the lightest of bruises from his suctioning lips. he tries to undo your clothes and his, but the small space that this decade-old chair provides won’t allow for it. besides, it wouldn’t be wise of him to make you squirt on a family heirloom. “this won’t do,” he clicks his teeth, decidingly picking you up. your legs wrap around his torso like second nature, arms circled around the back of his muscular neck.

“reiii, baby wait!” you draw out the call of his name, but all it does is coax him further. can’t you tell that your voice is only making him harder? that your whines urge him to fuck you silly? 

“wait?” he reiterates, grinding up into your clothed core. you shudder upon contact. “what for?” from beneath the denim he wears, you can feel his stiffness poke against your flimsy panties. “don’t you wanna head to bed first, honey? hm?” you whine into his neck. it takes a good eight seconds for him to respond.

“uh-uh,” reiner gives you a half-hearted grunt, with his gaze fixed on your cleavage that the low neckline of your dress presents to him. obviously, he’s interested in other things. “here’s just fine, sugar.” he’s strong enough to fuck you standing up with nothing else supporting him, and you know that. he doesn’t need a goddamn mattress.

reiner’s large hands grab at your underside, using your ass as the perfect leverage to press you close to him. this is your third time fucking this week, and it’s only tuesday. you’d mention it, but he’s too busy kissing down the valley of your breasts. impatience seeps through his every movement, from how he grasps at your thighs to keep you upright, to eagerly feeling along your lower half like it’s his first time touching your body.

“slow down, rei.” begrudgingly, reiner removes his lips from your chest. he finally calms for just a moment, so that he can meet your beautiful eyes. your face has been overtaken by a subtle pout. “m’sorry, honey,” he murmurs between a deep kiss, all wet and tongue-filled. you assume that’s supposed to be his form of an apology. his toned arm re-fastens itself around your body, holding you tight, while the other bunches up your dress and pushes down his bottoms, “but i need you. so fuckin’ bad.” you could never deny him and that sweet southern drawl. he knows that his smooth mouth works magic on you— he always gets what he wants from his pretty girl. 

now freed of any confines, reiner lowers his hand to stroke at the base of his dick, tugging himself with a low hiss. involuntarily, his hips buck. “you can finish up that skirt later, hm?” he releases himself and appoints his attention to you, the pads of his fingers circling your clit in just the way you like. your head falls forward onto his broad shoulder. “hell, i’ll even buy you some o’those frilly ones at that fancy mall you like goin’ to . . .” he utters partially to you and a little to himself, still occupied with keeping pressure on your bud. by now, with your head thrown back, you’ve already forgotten what you were working on in the first place.

having done this countless times before, reiner’s quickly able to find your dripping entrance. the drag of his tip through your puffy folds causes a ‘shlck’ sound to elicit. reiner smiles to himself; you’re embarrassingly wet. your hips begin to swivel and writhe, that’s how he knows you’re getting as needy as he. choosing not to waste any more time, he pushes himself inside with one swift motion. you cry out from the stretch, already fluttering around the first few inches he gives you. so far, it's just the tip and some, but he's so wide.

“goddamnit, baby . . . i fuckin’ love this pussy,” reiner grunts through clenched teeth. he’d usually start off with a shallow thrust and ease you into it, but he isn’t feeling as patient. every thrust is fast-paced, almost rushed. the impact has you bouncing in his arms, all as he continues his unrelenting efforts.

“s’good, rei— so good,” wavering moans spill past your lips. he hisses when your manicured nails dig into the hot flesh of his firm, round biceps. you squeeze around him until his eyes go rolling back. “i know, mama. i know,” reiner whines and groans, because it’s all he can manage to do. if he was air-headed about you earlier, surely he’s braindead now. he pumps into you rapidly, restlessly, but he still finds a way to make it feel so thorough. that’s probably because he’s fucking huge; incredibly endowed, like every other big and buff part of him. with a cock this thick, how could he not strike every nerve and hit every spot? 

he rolls his hips up into you with breathtaking fervor, fucks into you until he’s balls deep within your pulsating cunt. sweat dripping down his furrowed brow, he rasps out, “can’t wait to fill you up,” sloppy kisses follow, and his tongue slides across yours as he mumbles on about cumming inside, stuffing you full, making you his. you finally know what he’s doing, you should’ve known all along— he’s going to pump his cum into you as deep as he can get it to go. thrust his seed into your pliant womb until he’s fucked a baby into you. 

the mere thought of makin’ you a mama has his head spinning. reiner’s breath catches in his throat, and your sounds heighten in pitch— the pair of you can tell that you’re bound to reach ecstasy. he squats a bit lower, goes a little faster, attempting to propel you both into your orgasms. it’s coming on like an impending wave; your belly tightens, toes curling from where your heels dig into reiner’s strong back.

he knows you’ve come undone once your smooth, ridge-like walls begin to spasm around him, to the point where he can hardly pull back or push in further. he likes to think that it’s your pretty pussy’s way of begging for his cum. still, he doesn’t let up, not until you’re thoroughly impregnated. “jus’ a lil more. hold on ‘fa me, honey, m’kay?” he pleads through throaty whimpers. weakly, you nod. the overstim makes you pant and mewl, biting onto the damp skin of his exposed jugular to try and quiet yourself.

reiner slams you down onto him, the veins in his forearms bulging as he desperately grasps onto the globes of your ass. the resounding slap of skin rings around his tingling ears, lewd sounds floating throughout the otherwise quiet farmhouse.

“g’na let papa fill you up? yeah?” you cry out a weak ‘mhm!’ along with other pleas of how much you want it; want him. his balls twitch and his abdomen goes tense. “m'close,” he gruffly whispers. you decide to spur him on: “g-gimme your babies, papa, i need it!” that’s all he needs to topple over the edge. “oh fuck, mama— m’gonnacum,” reiner’s words jumble together when he comes, coating your insides with warm globs of white. though his thighs never cease their trembling, he still maintains a steady hold on you, keeping your limp frame upright. 

reiner stays inside as a means of keeping all his seed plugged into you, just for good measure. he doubts that he’s got enough energy remaining to round up the cattle after this. his chest heaves slowly, and his hair’s a mess from all that pulling you were doing, but he’s more than satisfied. he's even got this dumb, blissed-out smile on his face to show his content. you're sure he's knocked you up thoroughly by now.

he’ll make sure to buy you a pregnancy test by next morning. 

[pinkmirth]

⸻ 𝑃ℛℰ𝒮ℰℛ𝒱ℰ!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ the belmont family has endured for centuries, and it’s now up to richter to keep it going strong. there’s only one way to ensure the expansion of his bloodline, and it’s simple; knocking you up.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 6k+ words of . . . ) richter belmont x fem!reader, canon-divergent, set in the 18th century (1700s), nsfw/smut, porn with very little plot, established relationship, size difference, nipple play, handjob, panty-ripping, p-in-v, heavy breeding kink, many mentions of pregnancy, missionary, tummy bulge, lotus position, creampies, richie’s a bit cocky (when is he not!), use of pet names (e.g. darling, love, good girl, rich, richie . . .), richter calls reader a ‘ cockslut ’ once, explicit language, lowercase intended, black coded, minors shoo!

𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱ℰ-𝒩𝒪𝒯ℰ! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ after binging castlevania (nocturne), i instantly fell for that gorgeous man richter & his baby blue eyes ><  he’s got a sharp mouth, a pretty face, and nice biceps– of course i’m in love with him! i just had to whip up somethin’ for my favorite belmont (dunno why, but i heavily believe their clan is crazy about breeding hmm) this was supposed to be an itty bitty drabble, but it ended up much longer than i thought it’d be . . . and might i warn you that this is mostly just sappy, nasty filth. now, please enjoy this smutty piece of work for richie! ❤︎

richter has made the renard household your favorite place on earth. more specifically, you’re fond of his homey bedroom. it’s got this olde charm to it, and a wide glass window with french-pinewood framing; one that offers a pleasant view of the grassy fields and neighboring stream that surround the cottage. 

over anything else, his bed is surely the best part of it all. there’s a fluffy duvet in that dusty-blue color he likes, one so large that it covers his long legs even when they tangle between yours. the quilted mattress has just the right amount of space for two lovers, and is comfy enough to keep you warm throughout the night, considering the chance you might stay over. 

though, there is a downside, as nothing can be perfect— it creaks far too much when he fucks you. 

it’s not often that the both of you can make good use of that bed of his, especially when the noise makes things terribly obvious. you wouldn’t dare attempt anything improper in richter’s room with his adoptive family just a brief set of steps away. 

there's a time for everything, but not that he cares. you try paying no mind to richter’s lingering touches along your waist, and how he mischievously dives underneath your bottoms to grab at the fat of your ass with a wicked grin; all as his aunt tera boils porridge and beans by the stovetop downstairs. you’re sure he finds joy in the risk, or more in provoking you. 

it’s only when the house is empty, apart from you and richter and nothing else, that you can have your fun. like now, for instance. it’s out of pure luck that tera decided to pay a visit to the farmer’s market, and for maria to tag along with her mother as well. they mentioned something about wanting to buy the best of what the early-autumn harvest had to offer, with the meats being juiciest and the produce fresher than it’s been all year. 

you believe that’s why richter’s got so much stamina— the plenty of food he’s been scarfing down lately. or, possibly, it could just be him . . . nothing but him, and his unexplainable belmont genes that make him fucking superhuman. he swears he’s normal, but the way he picks you up with such ease as soon as his family steps out the door can only be deemed as unnatural. 

he's quick to sweep you off your feet, in the most abrupt way he can, of course. richter grins over the way you squeal as he whisks you past the kitchen, ‘round the table, and down the corridor. his hands work at keeping you upright, palms firmly planted under your thighs. he carries your weight like that of a feather and doesn't break a sweat. but considering where he’s headed, straight to his bedroom, that’ll soon change. 

“don’t go getting all surprised on me,” richter voices a lighthearted whisper. he kisses the part of your neck that he can manage to reach from above the collar of your blouse, “you know what we do once we have the place to ourselves.” 

“you snatched me off the ground without notice, i’ve all the right to be surprised— ohmygod, richter!” you sputter out a laugh, with his mouth on your flesh being so ticklish. you can feel his lips curving upwards, taking the shape of a smile. your arms fling around the back of his neck like second nature, fingers carding through his fluffy brunette hair. with zero patience, as always, richter kicks the door in with the shallow heel of his leather thigh-boot, slips into the room with you still in his arms, and shuts it closed by pressing you up against it. 

he was right about one thing— once tera and maria leave, this is exactly how it goes. clothes are torn off with haste (mostly on richter’s end, as you could imagine), heated kisses are exchanged, and he spits the nastiest words with that sharp mouth of his in order  to get you all worked up. the night sky and moonshine from the window gives his room this subtle tone of blue, but he makes you feel red-hot. 

richter keeps you right where he wants you; held up by his unfiltered strength, with your back to the door. one moment, he’s drawing closer to you, raking over every detail of your face with nothing but admiration swirling in his eyes. by the next, his lips are moving languidly against yours, slightly unruly yet undeniably passionate. you wouldn’t dare admit how much of a damn good kisser he is. the man’s ego would fucking skyrocket.

though, you really don’t have to tell him anything. the way you reciprocate his affection says it all. he breaks away for a sparing moment, but not before bringing his tongue across your bottom lip in one playful swipe. it’s light, teasing, and completely of his nature.

“i can see it in your eyes, y’know.” richter chuckles at how you lean forward to chase after the warmth of his lips again. he brings you to your feet so he can slip off his fingerless gloves and undo any harnesses. he then crouches a bit to unzip his boots. 

“see what?” you airily huff, haphazardly undoing button by button on your blouse until it’s completely open. similarly, he begins to make quick work of his top. you enjoy the flexure of his biceps as he pulls them out from the sleeves of his cerulean blue blazer-vest that he drops once free of, allowing it to scatter to the ground. you catch onto its emblem; the belmont crest, neatly embroidered upon the breast-pocket. 

“how much you want this,” richter peers down at you, eyes gleaming the prettiest tint of blue. “it’s cute, how obvious you are.” his upper half is bare, and the smooth canvas of his chest is all can focus on while he closes in on you. you’re trapped between the sturdy door and his heated body, and you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. 

“you’re practically salivating over the thought of getting fucked, yeah? bet you wouldn’t mind if i took you right here.” he grins as he says it, staring unashamedly at how cleavage pools from your brassiere. richter creeps a finger underneath the strap, tugs it down and does the same with the other, dipping his head low to pepper your bare shoulder with feather-light pecks. before long, the bra’s at your feet. 

“hm, but you’re no different,” you manage out, reveling in the warm lashing of his tongue against your nipple. it buds up the more he suckles at it.

“really, now?” he eventually parts from your breasts and rises back up to his full imposing height, carrying that faint smirk he forever wears. he looks so adorable this way— cheeks pink, lips spit-streaked. richter takes hold of your bottoms from either side of you, and swiftly brings them down with what you could only call pure impatience. 

“yes, really. you’re just as desperate,” you counter him, reaching low to prove it. your palm grazes his bulge, and you give a few thorough squeezes; the kind that makes his mouth drop open. 

“look at you, almost bursting out of your pants,” you quietly giggle, gazing up at him through the wisps of your lashes. richter wonders how you make such light fun while using your touch to undo him all at once. his breathing quickens, and it gets just a little heavier with your every attempt to caress his throbbing cock through his trousers. “seems like you need it more than i do, doesn’t it?” 

“oh, fuck me . . .” richter whines, settling his head into the slope of your shoulder. your touch leaves him, just for a moment, to rid him of those restrictive pants. his cock springs free from its confines and bobs under its own weight. he’s got more length than girth; a good six or seven in size, with two thick veins running along the underside of him. the faint-pink tip prods at your thigh, staining your skin with precum. 

he bucks against you hungrily, fingertips digging into the seams of your panties. you think you can hear them splintering apart. in the heat of things, he always winds up tearing your good underwear. 

richter could ease into this moment and let your hand work him senseless, but there comes a time where he decides to end the charade. there’s also no knowing when his aunt and sister will return. he wants to make the most out of the unpromised time you have. 

and so, he cuts your fun short with a mere rasp, “i’m through messing around with you. get on the fucking bed.” 

no malice is found in his words; it’s just the height of his lust. you’d do as told, but richter’s already taking action into his own hands. with two, three— no, four steps, he’s standing at the bedside and splaying you across it. he snags off the remaining of your torn panties, left to suggestively decorate his floor. now, in all your naked glory, you’re bare and ready for him. 

richter crawls over to you and kneels from above where you lay, situated closely between your legs. your thighs cushion either side of his lean hips. he leans down occasionally whenever you plead for a kiss, or wish to thread your fingers through his brown tousled hair. it now looks just a bit wilder than usual. 

“c’mon— open, darling.” he hints at your legs, smoothing his warm palms down from your calves to your thighs. ever the compliant girlfriend, you part them nice and wide for his viewing pleasure. your cunt’s glossy and wet, clenching around nothing but the intangible air around. 

‘oh, how pretty,’ he breathlessly murmurs, dragging two fingers across the expanse of your body. down, down, down, until they’re tracing along your slit. your dripping hole puckers against the pads of his index and middle, and you whimper when he threatens to push two inside. 

“this wet, yet i’ve hardly done a thing,” his voice is ever boastful, “are you sure i’m the desperate one?” both fingers are suddenly replaced with his stiff erection, and he uses the precum-stained tip to catch onto your clit, resting warm and heavy against it. to that, you release a little ‘mm,’ and he taps against your puffy bud with the head of his cock— stopping once your hips start bucking for more. 

“god, you just love to torment me . . . ” you huff out, vexation getting the best of you. “torment you? oh, never.” richter taunts, slotting himself between your puffy folds. he steers the way he glides against you by keeping a thumb at the base. “i just like to watch you squirm, is all.” 

you know how to pry what you want out of him; a little bit of begging here, a small ounce of praise there. you lift your hips to grind against the underside of him, emitting soft moans whenever he rubs against your swollen clit just right, “richter, please. i really need your cock . . .”  

“oh, baby,” he bites at his lower lip, giving in just as you expected of him. “i love it when you ask nicely.” in one fluid motion, he fits himself past the fleshy ring of your entrance and slips right inside. noise falls from you both; you’re gasping at the steady push, doing your best to accommodate every given inch, and richter’s letting small groans escape him, fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips. 

“always so fucking . . . tight,” he emits a shuddered breath, dropping his head to watch himself bottom out deep enough for his balls to nestle snugly against your ass-cheeks. you’re well connected now, to the point where his own pelvis has become sticky with your arousal. chestnut fringes drop into his view, and he sweeps his hair back with one hand threading through it. 

“you’re taking it all so well this time,” he lifts his gaze to meet yours, a subtle grin playing on his lips. “such a good girl for me.” the connection between you two pulsates. he starts to build a delicious rhythm— drawing out for just a second, and pushing back in by the next. he watches you melt beneath him, your eyes sealed shut and mouth agape. a tangly string of moans tumble from your plush lips. richter’s no composer by any means, but the sounds he pulled from you is nothing short of beautiful music. 

he’s without resignation tonight, and you notice his intensity when handling you. those naughty hands of his cup and squeeze and rub, his thrusts are fast, and you're sure that the resounding ‘smack!’ of skin-upon-skin can be heard from outside the window with how loud it’s become.  

richter’s got your wrists bound above your head using the grip of only one firm hand, while he uses the other to keep your leg perched over his broad shoulder. his cock pushes deeper inside whenever he rolls his hips into your own, and your toes curl against the sheets with every stroke. when ramming in, his breath goes shaky at the sight of your body lurching, and pulling out makes his eyes roll back with how hard you’re clamping down on him, practically begging him to stay. 

you’re soon to unravel, and you can tell he is too. his thighs begin to tremble, and his pace is less timely. nearing ecstasy, you already know what richter’s bound to ask you: 

“where do you want me?” 

without fail, he poses the same question by the near end of every session. and each time, you opt for the safe route, even though you secretly wish for more. your answer mostly varies on whatever position he’s got you manhandled in. bashfully, you’ll instruct him to cum over your ass if he has you bent over, or your tits if he’s been ogling them the whole night. sometimes, you’ll even let him decorate your pretty face with his seed— now that drives him mad, so much so that you always go another round or two afterwards. 

but your true desire is, by far, much filthier than the rest. you’re nowhere near daring enough to plainly admit that you want his cum inside of you. as in, womb-filling placement. pregnancy-inducing, even. 

though, something’s come over you tonight. you think richter’s finally ‘fucked you stupid’ the way he always cockily threatens to. or, maybe having him settled within you just feels too good to give up so soon. you don’t want him pulling out this time, you determine. what you need is for him to stay right where he is, to keep you stuffed whole with his warm love. all you want is for him to do it— 

“inside,” is your breathless cry; a risky plea of the very thing he spends lone nights getting himself off to the thought of. richter isn't sure he heard you right— no, it must be a cruel figment of his perverse imagination. a bead of sweat's caught along his raised brow, those blue eyes of his carry a hooded glow, and his face, bearing a cutely furrowed look, grows pinker than before. 

“what?” 

“oh, god,” you whine, face gone hot. “richter, i . . .” the words melt off your tongue and fizzle into nothing. 

“you . . ?” he plays around your hesitance, drawing out the word with some light goading. you sigh rather than responding, and it’s a dramatic one, because does he really have to make you repeat yourself? richter gazes down at you expectantly as he slows his movements, finding purchase on your waist to come to an unsteady pause. his fingers drum along your sides, awaiting more clarity. 

your voice is small when you manage to confess, “ . . . i want you to cum inside of me.”

you think you can see the very moment that he fucking breaks. it’s like his resolve’s a porcelain vase, oh so delicate, and you’ve just pushed it to the floor and cracked it into a million tiny pieces. he releases this low groan, one that makes your pussy flutter at the sound of it. you can feel how rapidly his cock throbs from within you. you’re sure he’s about to paint them white. 

“shit . . . you don’t mean that.” 

“i do, rich. i want this.” 

you blink up at him, pleading with glassy eyes and the very pout that makes his heart throb. god, he wants to kiss you so messily right now. and that he does— closing in to slot his lips against yours, working his tongue down your mouth, and separating with a distinct pop! you moan against richter’s lips as his clutch on your waist intensifies. 

“you’ve gone ahead and finally drove me fucking crazy,” he thickly swallows, “you don’t know what you’ve just done to me, do you?” richter takes hold on both sides of your face, painless but firm. you mumble aloud what sounds like his name. he can’t be sure, as you’re muffled from the way his grasp is making your cheeks puff out. 

“oh, darling, you don’t.” richter seethes, knowing how you like it when he gets a little mean, “because if you did, you’d know that spewing that kind of shit will make me fuck you like a senseless animal,” his toned body is hunched over yours, eliminating any space there once was between you, “that i’d fill up this greedy little cunt until you’re overflowing with my cum,” his octave drops, tone dangerous, “that i wouldn’t be able to stop until we’ve both passed out on this goddamn bed.” 

“mmph, rich . . .” you weakly attempt, whining through your lips that he keeps pursed between his thumb and index that press into the fat of your cheeks. 

“what was that, love? you wanna be stuffed with my cum?” his tone is a mocking one, but you dumbly nod anyway. he mirrors the rocking motion of your head, amused with your desperation, “fuck yeah, you do. can feel you getting wetter at the thought of it.” 

you haven’t got it in you to feed into that typical banter with your boyfriend. you only want him to do just as he said and ‘fill you up.’ you're pawing at his bicep with one hand, and the other one clasps over the wrist of the hand he’s using to squish at your face. ‘want it,’ you start, fingers skimming across his arm, ‘so badly, rich!’ 

“fine, then. you’re such a needy thing,” he gives in, figuring you’ve endured just about enough of his teasing. richter holds himself by the base, and pulls back to trace your gaping hole with his cockhead. 

“you asked for this,” he pants out, “to be fucking bred.” 

just as before, his entrance is a smooth one; even if your grip on him is so taut that he can barely manage to move. you’re moaning again, aimlessly circling your hips in an attempt to match his movement. 

patterns repeat themselves— like richter’s desperation that always manifests itself through harsh rutting. his mind goes blank every time he’s encompassed by your sweet, warm pussy. he aches for it, for you, as though he wasn’t just indulging. he was this close to release just minutes ago. the sensitivity is still there, you notice from how his tip pulses from within you. he’s been holding out on himself, trying to make this count. 

richter dedicates the next several minutes to flipping and folding you into at least two different positions, bodies merging with a zealous haste. as always, the bed creaks and whines with every pivoted motion made upon it. nobody else is here to complain about it, so the noise is ignored rather than worried over. after all, there’s something gratifying about the sex being hard and thorough. 

there’s more fervor behind his loving this time, and it’s because he’s got the end in mind. yes, the finishing is what he anticipates; once he can finally, finally pump you full of all the cum he has to offer. and maybe— no, definitely, he’ll have you knocked up after it’s done.  

the prospect excites him more than it should; giving you a little bright-eyed belmont. richter’s always seen replenishing the sacred bloodline as a responsibility that only he alone holds. the very last one, he is. who else apart from him could return their clan to its original glory? 

a good amount of years ago, as richter can’t bring himself to remember a particular number, his mother would present him with countless tales of their infamous family. how they’d slay monsters of the night with the utmost ease, gifted with holy tools and magic of old passed down throughout the centuries. he wouldn’t like to admit how much it’s gotten to his head; or moreso, how important he sees it to expand the family tree. 

god willing, the pair of you will have babies, lots of babies, and mark the start of a new generation of vampyre slayers. it already helps that he loves to fuck you at any given chance. breeding you had always been lingering at the back of his mind, even back when the pair of you first coupled over ten months back . . . but he never really thought so deeply about it until you confessed your deep desire, and forced him to come to terms with his own. 

“thinkin’ of you pregnant,” he reveals, voice honest and vulnerable, “god, what a beautiful sight. my woman, all round and full with my love . . . ” 

“mm, that sounds— possessive,” you breathe out, body steadily rocking at the pace that richter’s set. you’re cracking your eyes open and sparing him a glance, just to see that he’s already staring back down at you. like you’re his everything, it seems. that twinkle in his eye is reserved for you only, and it makes you throb with want. 

“oh, i’m sure it does.” he doesn’t bring himself to deny it. he wants you marked by him in every possible way. for anyone to take a glance at your rounding belly months from now and just know that he touched you thoroughly and fucked you right. 

“but you should understand just how fortunate you are, baby,” he coos, “do you know how many bitches would kill for this seed you’re getting tonight? hm?” richter drones on, “you even sure you deserve it?” 

he knows full well that you do. if there’s any woman on god’s green earth that he wants to give all his love to, it’s indisputably you. he’s simply rousing you up, making you ‘earn’ it. the man likes to tease, and you can’t help but enjoy being on the receiving end. 

“well . . . you’re planning to give it to me, aren’t you?” even with him wrecking you, body sore and hair disarray, you're still able to check him. “i am,” he sighs, “and you’re gonna feel it all the way in here,” a large palm of his splays across your abdomen. from over your tummy, he feels the outline of his own cock, pressing in and sliding out before ramming it’s way back in again, courtesy of his rolling hips. 

it spurs him on to see that he doubles you in size, so much so that his dick leaves a bulge. richter bets that he’s stretching out your cunt in the nicest way— just look at how you’re taking it with hazy eyes and quivering legs. no wonder you want his cum so badly; because who else throughout all of goddamn machecoul could give you such good orgasms? which other man could possibly fill you up with such valuable seed? 

“i swear, m’gonna give you a baby,” is richter’s shaky promise, moaning throughout, and his cock throbs twice in a row. he’ll make you a carrier of the next generation of belmonts, he swears it. and oh, is he sure you’ll be an amazing mother. the thought makes his head buzz. he vividly pictures you, tender and swollen in the tummy and breasts, waddling around cutely due to carrying his very own child. he could cum just by thinking about it too hard . . . 

and he does.

“oh, god, i’m gonna— oh, fuck!” his balls constrict, his pelvis becomes tightly-strung, and before he knows it, he’s emptying his thick load inside of you. 

“yes, rich . . . give it to me,” you softly purr, allowing him to ease his weight onto you as he shudders from the high and his limbs go weak. from where he has his face smushed against your cushiony chest, he bites at your left breast while cumming some more. it spurts out in hot streams, accompanied by the twitching of his sensitive dick. he lazily humps against you, and a bit of semen seeps past your cunt, trickles down the length of him, and pours out onto the sheets beneath. you knew it’d be satiating to be filled to the brim. 

he feels like he could fall asleep right here atop of you. even with his head’s swimming in a thick cloud of lust, and though the aftermath of his climax lingers, he’s still able to deliver slow rubs to your little bud.

“hope you’re ready for another,” he reaches down between you and swiping his graceful fingers across it, “because we aren’t fucking done yet.”

you hardly get a chance to bask in how nicely he’s loaded your womb, or the delightful tingle he brings when playing with your clit. richter, always a step ahead, uses his small bit of remaining energy to sit upwards with his back to the bedpost, and hauls you onto him so that you’re straddled over him just the way he likes. he gets the best view of your jiggling boobs this way.

“of course you still have it in you,” you lightly laugh. given his endurance, richter’s usually able to maximize his stamina through plenty of rounds. “i also wouldn’t mind being filled a second time . . .” you set your forehead to rest against his, bringing up a hand to swipe hair away from his gorgeous eyes, “i liked it.”

“and i loved it,” he’s quick to admit, “should’ve been finishing inside you long before now.”

you smile over his comment and wiggle your ass over his semi hard-on, growing stiffer with every sway of your breasts in his face. his hands are busy holding you from either side, so you go out of your way to stroke along his cum-dirtied cock, white dripping alongside it. he groans at your touch as you help him in finding your entrance. your mouth falls open when sinking down on him, and he rushes to lick and suck at your lips. for the third time tonight, he makes himself at home in your inviting cunt. 

and so, it begins again; his ceaseless tempo. your partner's grasp is hot and strong, pulling you off and slamming you back down onto him however he pleases. you cry out for more, and he’s capable of giving it to you, so he does. richter pistons up into you— out, in, out, in, molding you to shape the very curve of his veined cock. blush colored a fiery pink scatters his face from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 

“again, richter,” you gasp out, “cum inside me again . . !” oh, just look at that. now he’s built you a rotten little addiction. from here on out, you’ll probably always be left craving the fulfillment gained from him dumping his load into your pussy. personally, he doesn’t mind sating you. if it eases your mind and satisfies your heart, of course. after all, he’s surely developed a new kink of his own after tonight.  

“oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you, cockslut?” his fingers dip between your bodies to slide against your clit once more, “to let me impregnate you again, and again, and again . . .” he punctuates his sharp words with the lurch of his sturdy hips, knocking up into you until you’re jolting in his lap, breasts bouncing against his solid chest. 

he doesn’t mean to come across in an offish way, or sound so mean. it’s just that when he gets like this, with your warm body so pliant at his fingertips, his mouth just tends to . . . run. more than usual, he supposes. the belmont just says whatever comes to mind, no matter how vulgar. 

richter’s bright blue eyes follow the motion of your tits with every thrust. he slams in, hips pressed to you as close as it can get. he’s burrowed into you so deeply that his curly patch of dark pubes friction against your bundle of nerves. he’s twitching at the underside for every time your velvety walls suck him in further. you’re trying to milk him fucking dry, he believes. 

there’s only so much stimulation that the pair of you can take in one night alone. 

‘goddammit’ he grits out. before long, richter’s fucking you full of another stream of cum. his orgasm, hot and blinding, triggers your own; you’re creaming all over him, wetting his cock with the juices you squirt out. you’re sobbing out his name and shaking in his lap, so he holds you. a secure hand of his comes up and cradles your head to his chest, stroking your hair and calming your spent body, even as the orgasmic waves rush through you. 

a silence comes over his quaint little room, where the ambience was once intense with the steamy air of sex. a chill autumn breeze blows its way through the cracked-open window, cooling your sweat-sheen skin. his dusty-blue sheets are stained with all kinds of suggestive white fluids, and the bed has stopped making all that noise. 

you’re still placed over his thighs in the same straddling stance, one you both feel much too tired to get out of. he tries at maneuvering so he can lie on his back, with you motionlessly laid over him. your breathing is soft and winded, but your heart’s beating fast. he can feel it, with the way your chest is pressed to his own in this position. 

richter eventually slips out, and you whine once he leaves you. he peers down and groans at the spillage of his potent cum, pearly and warm, dripping from your messy little cunt in thick globs. ‘christ,’ he thinks, ‘it’s so fucking much.’  

he presses a kiss to your forehead, and it stirs you from the sleep you were just about to fall into. “what do you say to me, darling?” 

“hmm . . what?” after all those rounds, you’re not here mentally, and he knows it— he’s why. but with the light smirk his lips hold, you’re finally able to get it. he’s waiting for a: 

“t—thank you,” you murmur out, and he tsks.

“oh, c’mon, be specific. thank you for what?” 

he's simply insufferable. oh, but you love the man, so you'll let him have his way, just for tonight.

“thank you for . . giving me your cum, richter . . .”

he hums in what appears to be satisfaction. it sounds like the prettiest set of words when falling from your lips. he’d fuck you again if the both of you weren’t completely spent. 

richter brings a hand to support the back of his head, propping it up a little higher than the pillows can. you snuggle into him, face nuzzling against the firm comfort of his chest, and he throws his arm over your waist, feeling at the plush skin there with a wandering touch. 

his palm slides a bit further down, now planted gently against your stomach. it’ll start to grow in a little while, and get real big and plump with your baby fostering inside. maybe they’ll have your nose and complexion, with his eyes and attitude . . . he lets a grin overtake his lips, feeling more than accomplished. 

“you’re a lucky fucking woman,” richter coos, hand lovingly rubbing over your tummy, “you’re gonna be carryin’ belmont blood now.”

tags go out to . . . ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ @blushfwul @springmarcheson @missmagicalprincess @kaennih-skitlles @divin3bloodlines! hope y’all enjoyed, mwuah! ❤︎

©𝑃ℐ𝒩𝒦ℳℐℛ𝒯ℋ! — all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ౨ৎ

[pinkmirth]

OPTIONS, reiner braun!

SYNOPSIS / WRITER’s NOTE: here’s a lil cowboy & footballer rei-rei drabble, since i can’t decide for the life of me which one i prefer . . . no plot whatsoever, just thinkin’ of all the ways i want both versions of reiner to make a complete and total mess out of me!

CONTAINS: ( 600+ words of . . . ) cowboy!reiner & footballer!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, porn without plot (pwp), comparison of cowboy!reiner and footballer!reiner in bed, oral (f!receiving), cunnilingus, missionary position, cowboy!reiner has a breeding kink, footballer!reiner’s kinda cocky, explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

cowboy!reiner is a kindhearted partner, one who never fails to be incredibly patient with you. he whispers against your flesh, pouring out sweet praises. in no rush, he takes all the time needed to warm you up. reiner uses his large hands, roughened by farm work, to knead your soft breasts and squeeze at your thighs, touching whatever he can manage to reach. his ticklish scruff frictions against your body when he lowers to grace your clit with a sweet kiss. his warm palms find purchase at your waist, using his gentle hold as leverage to deliver slow, deep-reaching thrusts. he can’t stop himself from rambling about how perfect you look underneath him, and his dick jumps whenever you run your nails down his muscular back. reiner expertly swivels his hips in just the way you like, grinning over your breathy moans that follow. any pet-name he mumbles sounds oh-so smooth, like that of dripping honey. ‘darlin’, he whines. ‘princess’, he groans. reiner notices how tightly you clench with every utterance. you ask him to fuck you ‘just a little faster’, and upon seeing the bat of your wispy lashes, he does. sweat rolls down his abdomen as he quickens his pace to match your command. he discards his pleasure to prioritize your own, calloused thumb grazing your puffy bud. a lazy grin of satisfaction spreads across cowboy!reiner’s handsome face once you finally cum for him. with a few more shallow pumps, he’s emptying his fat balls and fucking a thick load of fertile cum into your gaping pussy, thoroughly filling you up— breeding you. he knows how much you love it when he finishes inside; not to mention his dearest fantasy of watching you grow plump with his baby. over all else, the one thing this gentleman truly wants is to make you feel good.

but let it be known that footballer!reiner is a complete 360 from his farmer counterpart . . . this man is nothing if not a tease! he’s downright cocky when dealing with your body. he effortlessly manhandles you, almost similar to how he tosses around that damn football. reiner’s committed all of your round curves and smooth dips to memory, knowledgeable of a dozen different ways to get you mindlessly blabbering his name. unashamedly, he laps and suckles at your leaking pussy with a brazen smile. he then pauses the swipe of his tongue, just as you’re soon to reach ecstasy. to that, you whine, and he stifles a low chuckle over the desperate smack you land on his bicep. you know exactly what reiner wants of you— for you to beg for it. beg for him. he loses his mind when you do, hurriedly taking position between your widened legs to slip inside. he pleads for you to look him in the eye when he eases himself into your slick hole. the ego boost he gains is massive, upon watching your pretty eyes roll back at the sensation of his fat dick pushing into you. he drills your throbbing cunt with reckless abandon, fingers tightly pressing into your hipbones. reiner’s quick, fervent and rough with it. this brash method sure is effective. it allows him to hit every single fucking angle. ‘oh, you love this fuckin’ dick, don’t you, baby?’ he taunts, nipping at the junction of your neck. your dainty hands grasp onto his broad shoulders, legs loosely crossed over his firm hips. his unmatched stamina allows him to pound you into the mattress for three lengthy rounds, and he’s made you release more times than you can manage to remember. he peers down at you with a prideful gleam, because just look at how fucked out he’s made you. With tear-stricken cheeks and a heaving chest, you weave your fingers through his short-cut blonde hair to pull him down for a kiss, his cocky smile spreading against your lips. footballer!reiner’s sure that only him alone can please you like this.

[pinkmirth]

(arranged marriage with reiner!! you’re expecting some cruel man and he’s just nothing of the sort and he takes his time getting to know you and falling for you before the idea of sex; and boyyyy the sex… first man to ever make you come)

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ARRANGED, reiner braun !

omg mona! hubby reiner is everything to me— especially since i’ve been meaning to write something like this for a while >< after the marriage (which you begrudgingly went through with,) you think you’re gonna hate him; that he’ll be heartless and demanding. what i love most about this is that reiner easily proves you wrong! contrary to your former assumptions, your new husband is kind. makes you proud of being ‘missus braun.’ he’s compassionate and dedicated to you and the future family you’ll make (assuming that you’re together for the sake of an heir!) speaking of an heir . . . it isn’t long before you’re expected to have his babies.

before any talk of kids, he’d spent the first few months of your marriage trying to be a good husband— a man you can rely on, someone you can tell your deepest secrets to and laugh with. from the moment your relationship became legally bound, he’s been trying his best to not only see you as a wife, but as his closest friend. once that bond is made, once you’ve built trust, he deems you ready for him. and god, is he the gentlest man on earth. his large calloused hands are capable of the softest strokes. and he never thought you’d be so eager to feel him in this way. deep down in his heart, reiner believes you’re made for him. on the night of his first attempt at impregnating you (the thought of which excites him more than it should), he makes sure to fuck you good— hard but slow, the exact way you instructed him to. he needs you to enjoy this just as much as him. with thorough thrusts and pressured rubs to your clit, five minutes was all he needed to get you undone. you think you’ve finally fallen in love— both for him and that thick cock of his. reiner’s the only man capable enough to make you feel this good, he turns out to be the best you’ve ever had.

when you’ve both had your fill, satiated after three lengthy hours of love-making, he stays. nobody else has. hell, he even goes as far as to wiping you down and tucking you in, slipping underneath the sheets beside you. strong arms encircle your waist and pull you into the firmness of his chest. his skin’s warm, so you press a kiss to it. initially, this relationship was never of your own will. you’d even threatened to run away and leave him at the goddamn altar. but now? you can’t even fathom missing up on a man as rare as reiner braun.

[pinkmirth]

What do you think Reiner and his s/o would argue about in a relationship? I can't imagine it would last long

BACK TALK, reiner braun !

SYNOPSIS — just a fluffy lil drabble about reiner wanting to take care of you. he doesn’t want to argue, but you’re just so stubborn…

CONTAINS — 1k words of . . . fluff, fem!reader (black coded), “girly-girl” reader, reiner feeds you, lowercase intended, just sappy stuff with this caring gentleman <3 (kinda sorta self indulgent!)

this is a tough one, nonnie…. only because maturity is reiner’s best attribute! picking a problem with you is the last thing this man wants to do, and he’s very slow to anger. you’re right about any disputes not lasting long! even if he tried, reiner can’t stay mad at you.

the most that could happen between you and him are petty squabbles about preferences, something dumb like waffles over pancakes! the pair of you ultimately laugh it off and end up cuddling once all is said and done. It’s hard to envision a topic that could stir such a reaction from him to the point where he’s arguing with you. i think the only thing that would get him going back and forth in an “argument” is if he’s worried about you, but you decide to be stubborn with him.

for instance, you’re tired and have been studying all day, and he just wants you to allow yourself to relax. but! you’re persistent on finishing up your assignments. he’d probably grow upset and insist that you deserve a break . . . (veryyy self indulgent ‘cause i’ve been studying for a gajillion tests lately!)

dull thuds of reiner’s heavy footsteps upon carpet announce his entrance into your room. he strolls around your cozy little home-desk, the one he helped you build a couple months back when the school semester first began. it’s adorned in sanrio stickers galore and polaroid pictures of you and him, nostalgic square photos secured with baby-pink thumbtacks. reiner circles you with a brooding silence, flitting his eyes from the slideshow on your laptop screen to your scribbled notes. you feel him linger behind your chair, but opt on saying nothing.

“baby, c’mon…” reiner calls out, his tone borderline pleading, “you’ve been here for hours.” from behind your seat, he inches in until he’s close enough to rest his weighty hands on your stiffened shoulders. reiner’s warm palms rub along the junction of your neck. it’s helping— he can see it in the way your body slackens in your swivel chair.

“i gotta prep for tomorrow’s test,” his touch brings you to release a lax hum, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it for long. the fleeting moment of bliss he provides ends too soon, as you smooth out your oversized baby-pink tee-shirt and begin to refocus on your work.

“have you eaten?” he asks. the shake of your head brings about his frown. you could surely get your work done without depriving yourself of basic needs… all he wants is for you to be well taken care of. “no, not yet.” you spare him a glance before looking back over your laptop.

reiner’s hand shoots out, grabbing your chair and turning you halfway-round to face him. the closeness of his face to yours makes it seem like the perfect opportunity to press your lips to his and linger there for a while. instead, you remain still, choosing a safer route by stealing glances of his handsome attributes. your eyes run across his prominent collarbone peeking through his low-neck sweatshirt, the slight clench of his firm jaw, most especially the raw concern swimming in his honey-golden eyes. “why not?” reiner questions, with his brows drawn tight in worry. you whirl back around, for the sake of your own resolve.

“because i’m studying, reiner.”

“no, you’re cramming.” he corrects. reiner can read you like a damn storybook; it’s almost as though he knows you more than his very own self. “at least i’m drinking water,” you raise a bottle from your desk for emphasis. water sloshes in the cylindrical confines as you set it back down, “happy?”

reiner rolls his tongue and prods at his inner cheek. he decides to pay no mind to your little attitude. “water’s fine, but you need food.”

“a meal would be too heavy for me... i’d probably end up falling asleep.” you haphazardly shoo his suggestion, scribbling bullet points onto your notebook.

“so a snack would be better, then? your favorite fruit is in the fridge downstairs.” reiner turns on his heel, intent on coming back with a bowl of nicely-cut strawberries and mangoes. you reach out, clasping onto him forearm before he zips out of your room and descends the flight of stairs. “it’s okay, reiner.” you assure. the ends of your manicured nails ghost his wrist.

“is it really? ‘cause it’s hard to believe that you don’t want me to get anything at all.” he quirks up a thin brow as he says it. reiner knows just how much you need his support— you’re simply choosing to act like you don’t.

“i’ll get somethin’ to eat later, i promise.” with the twirl of your ballpoint-pen, you’re back to writing. this is his third time checking up on you, and you give him the same answer with every visit. all this stubbornness has gone on long enough.

“you may be busy, but you’re also tired.” he's quick to snatch the pen from your hands, right in the middle of you scrawling a sentence onto lined paper. “hey! reiner, give it—”

“nuh-uh. stop bein’ difficult about it.” he plants a large hand onto the back of your macbook and shuts it closed. you do an over-exaggerated huff, make a pout, throw in a bratty eye roll— he doesn’t care for it. what you need is to allow him take care of you. he can’t let his darling work herself to death, now can he? not in a literal sense, but he wouldn’t forgive himself for allowing this to continue.

“i’ll be right back, okay? and for the love of god, don’t open that goddamn laptop.” he makes his leave. you hear the faint hum of a microwave. it doesn’t take long for him to return, with a steaming plate of food in hand. reiner takes joy in replacing that stupid notebook of yours with the reheated dinner that he cooked up for you over an hour ago.

he pulls up a seat, scoots in close, and brings a hot forkful up to your mouth. “don’t argue. just eat, baby.”

this sly man knows that it’s your favorite food. you have no energy left to brush him off. finally, you give in. with a soft ‘ah’, you allow reiner to feed you. there’s a satisfied gleam in his eye as he stuffs your mouth with bite after bite.

“it’s good?” he softly asks. you cover your mouth while chewing, giving him a sheepish nod. “mm-hm.”

“you feel better, don’t you?” reiner nudges your shoulder with his broader one. you don’t try to fight the smile overtaking your lips. “i do…” you relent, looping your arms around his neck. he firmly hugs you in one arm, and uses his unoccupied hand to hold onto the ceramic plate. over half of the food’s gone.

he hears your quiet, sincere ‘thank you’ murmured into his chest, feels your frame relax against his. “good.” reiner sighs into your hair. he wants you to put yourself first, every single time. “that’s good.”

[pinkmirth]

〝 𝒞𝒜𝒮𝒯ℒℰ𝒱𝒜𝒩ℐ𝒜 〞𝑀𝒜𝒮𝒯ℰℛℒℐ𝒮𝒯!

𝐼 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉ℯ . . . nsfw/fluffy works for the ‘ CASTLEVANIA ’ franchise (nocturne included!) sift through to find what you like, cutie! and over all else, minors shoo!

𝒜𝒟ℛℐ𝒜𝒩 “ 𝒜ℒ𝒰𝒞𝒜ℛ𝒟 ” 𝒯ℰ𝒫ℰ𝒮!

❥ wants & needs! (the castlevania men’s kinks, smut hcs)

❥ cherry-picking! (“ass or tits” with the castlevania men)

❥ a small bit of headcanons for adrian! (sfw & nsfw)

❥ ample! (overstimulated!alucard, smut drabble)

❥ jealous!alucard headcanons (suggestive/fluff)

❥ eating you out on your period! (nsfw ask)

❥ enemies to lovers with alucard! (suggestive)

❥ adrian’s favorite kinds of kisses! (suggestive ask)

❥ adrian’s neck fetish! (suggestive ask)

❥ midnight cravings! (smut drabble)

𝑅ℐ𝒞ℋ𝒯ℰℛ 𝐵ℰℒℳ𝒪𝒩𝒯!

❥ preserve! (smut)

❥ succumb! (sub!richter, smut drabble)

❥ wants & needs! (the castlevania men’s kinks, smut hcs)

❥ cherry-picking! (“ass or tits” with the castlevania men)

❥ marathon sex with richie! (a tiny drabble)

❥ richter’s favorite kinds of kisses! (suggestive ask)

❥ pining richter! (fluff drabble)

𝒯ℛℰ𝒱𝒪ℛ 𝐵ℰℒℳ𝒪𝒩𝒯!

❥ wants & needs! (the castlevania men’s kinks, smut hcs)

❥ cherry-picking! (“ass or tits” with the castlevania men)

𝒮𝒴𝒫ℋ𝒜 𝐵ℰℒ𝒩𝒜𝒟ℰ𝒮!

꒰ nothin’ yet . . . fics for (SYPHA) are soon to come!

𝐼𝒮𝒜𝒜𝒞 𝐿𝒜𝐹𝒪ℛℰ𝒵ℰ!

❥ exception! (smut-fic)

❥ wants & needs! (the castlevania men’s kinks, smut hcs)

❥ cherry-picking! (“ass or tits” with the castlevania men)

❥ a small bit of headcanons for isaac! (sfw & nsfw)

𝐻ℰ𝒞𝒯𝒪ℛ 𝒯ℋℰ 𝐹𝒪ℛ𝒢ℰ-𝑀𝒜𝒮𝒯ℰℛ!

❥ wants & needs! (the castlevania men’s kinks, smut hcs)

❥ cherry-picking! (“ass or tits” with the castlevania men)

𝒜𝒩𝒩ℰ𝒯𝒯ℰ!

꒰ nothin’ yet . . . fics for (ANNETTE) are soon to come!

𝒱ℒ𝒜𝒟 “ 𝒟ℛ𝒜𝒞𝒰ℒ𝒜 ” 𝒯ℰ𝒫ℰ𝒮!

❥ wants & needs! (the castlevania men’s kinks, smut hcs)

❥ cherry-picking! (“ass or tits” with the castlevania men)

❥ a handful of headcannons for vlad! (sfw & nsfw)

𝒟ℛ𝒪ℒ𝒯𝒜 𝒯𝒵𝒰ℰ𝒩𝒯ℰ𝒮!

꒰ nothin’ yet . . . fics for (DROLTA) are soon to come!

𝒞𝒪𝒰𝒩𝒯 𝒪ℒℛ𝒪𝒳!

❥ cherry-picking! (“ass or tits” with the castlevania men)

𝑀𝐼𝒵ℛ𝒜𝒦!

❥ cherry-picking! (“ass or tits” with the castlevania men)

last update: (MAY 24TH!) . . . frequently updated, more to come!

[pinkmirth]

꒰ 𝒜𝒪𝒯 𝑀𝒜𝒮𝒯ℰℛℒℐ𝒮𝒯 . . !

ℐ 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉ℯ . . . nsfw + sfw works for the fandom of ‘ ATTACK ON TITAN! ’ ( let it be known that most of my writing is for my sexy husband, reiner braun ❤︎) . . . sift through to find what you like, cutie! and over all else, minors shoo!

𝑅ℰℐ𝒩ℰℛ 𝐵ℛ𝒜𝒰𝒩 . . !

❥ himbo!reiner x bimbo!reader (short drabble, fluff)

❥ keeper! (bodyguard!reiner, fluff & smut mix)

❥ arranged! (husband!reiner, fluff & smut mix)

❥ recovery! (footballer!reiner, smut)

❥ get up! (smut)

❥ stuffed! (cowboy!reiner, smut)

❥ cowboy!reiner drabble! (smut)

❥ options! (cowboy + footballer reiner, smut)

❥ back talk! (fluff)

❥ cowboy!reiner headcanons! (fluff & smut mix)

❥ gluttonous! (smut)

❥ space cadet!reiner (fluff)

❥ all around! (smut)

❥ threesome with reiner & bertholdt! (reibert, smut)

❥ runway ready! (smut)

❥ declarations of love! (fluff & angst mix)

❥ traitor! (soldier!reiner, angst)

𝐸ℛℰ𝒩 𝒥𝒜ℰ𝒢ℰℛ . . !

❥ showtime! (rockstar!eren, smut)

❥ eren in a mini-skirt! (smut)

❥ interruptions! (smut)

❥ brainrot/headcanons for eren! (fluff, brief violence)

❥ dinner with eren! (smut)

❥ against all odds! (angst)

𝐵ℰℛ𝒯ℋ𝒪ℒ𝒟𝒯 𝐻𝒪𝒪𝒱ℰℛ . . !

❥ gentle giant! (smut)

❥ headcanons for bertl! (fluff & smut mix)

❥ threesome with bertholdt & reiner! (reibert, smut)

𝐿ℰ𝒱ℐ 𝒜𝒞𝒦ℰℛℳ𝒜𝒩 . . !

❥ taking initiative! (smut)

❥ 34 + 35 with levi! (smut)

𝒥ℰ𝒜𝒩 𝒦ℐℛ𝒮𝒞ℋ𝒯ℰℐ𝒩 . . !

❥ jean’s mullet! (fluff)

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒩𝒥ℰ 𝒮𝒫ℛℐ𝒩𝒢ℰℛ . . !

❥ fuck me, connie springer! (smut)

𝑀ℐ𝒦𝒜𝒮𝒜 𝒜𝒞𝒦ℰℛℳ𝒜𝒩 . . !

❥ muscle mommy mika! (fluff, slightly suggestive)

last update: ( JANUARY 5TH! ) . . . frequently updated, more to come!

[pinkmirth]

MUSCLE MOMMY MIKASA . . !

mikasa’s the kind of girl who doesn’t draw the slightest granule of attention. she keeps to herself and stays unnoticed, sitting at the very back of the lecture hall. she lives in her own little bubble, with chunky headphones blasting indie rock into her piercing-adorned ears. mika subtly taps along the desk with ink-black stiletto acrylics, shortened black bangs swaying over her steel-gray eyes. in truth, you hardly see much of mikasa ackerman outside of classes, aside from catching notice of her long patterned skirts and striped long sleeves when she’s walking to the library or grabbing lunch at the mess hall with eren and armin.

on an especially productive day, you head for the university gym to break a sweat and make progress on building your glutes. it’s upon arrival that you see mikasa, toned body sheen with sweat. exercises that would be considered strenuous to others, she pushes through with the utmost ease. it’s your first time seeing her in a sports bra, and you’re close to audibly gasping— has she always been this fucking ripped? you never would’ve thought that such a defined pack of tight abs belonged to her. it must be the magical work of all the layered clothes that cover up her physique and leave you none the wiser. you’re almost entirely sure that she has just as much muscle as the campus jock, reiner.

in awe, you eye the flex of her thick thighs with every hip thrust she does. you can hardly focus on the lateral raises you’re supposed to be doing, especially with all your attention being fixed on mikasa as she pumps over two-hundred pounds of weight. you question whether or not she can feel your hot stare running across her sightly stature, drinking in her solid biceps and perfectly round glutes. more importantly, you’re wondering if she’d be okay with doing you the favor of pulling you into a nice, firm chokehold . . .

[pinkmirth]

Moni Mo Stick with me here but imagine Space Cadet! Reiner and Reader. Like they're both in competition with each other to finish school first to rub it in each others face that they got their ship and crew first. And fast forward when they finally got their crew they find time to sabotage each others mission.

hii indie 💕! I’m loving this prompt right now fren 😩 let’s get into the space stuff!!!

…

you and reiner are constantly neck-and-neck, trying to one-up the other like a bad, unbreakable habit. it often led other cadets to believe there’s some sort of… romantic tension brewing, underneath all the bragging and contempt.

You round the corner of the halls of Astro Corp, making sure to approach Reiner just as he leaves his Engineering class. Your eyes rake across his tall, brawny form. That deliciously fitting, navy-colored space force uniform hugs his biceps in the rightest of ways; not that you’d ever openly admit it.

Your shoulder intentionally bumps at him. “It’s you.” He scoffs. That’s just yours and Reiner’s unique form of greeting. His sideways smile, surrounded by neat blonde stubble, looks as teasing as ever. It’s hard to distinguish whether it comes from a sense of rivalry or admiration.

��I completed my Astronaut Candidate Program.” you make sure that your tone is jabbing as you announce it. That proud grin of yours is enough to make his heart double over.

“Oh?” Reiner prods his tongue at his inner cheek. The cunning blonde grins, like he knows something you don’t— like he’s playing along. “Did you, now?”

“Mhm. I’m even part of the crew for the next expedition. Don’t miss me too much when I’m gone.” To that, he laughs. It’s low and borderline mocking. You hate just how much you love the sound.

“What’s funny?” You click your teeth. He regains himself, head shaking. “Please,” he cocks his head slightly to the left, a mannerism you noticed in him since your early cadet days. “Guess who’ll be leading the crew.”

Your mouth goes agape. His cocky little grin is annoyingly attractive. “It can’t be— it’s you?” He always found a way to counter any achievement of yours. Of course, you always found a way to do it right back. A never-ending cycle.

“Guess we’re both goin’ places,” Reiner sighs. “I just wonder,” He leans in, closer until you can see the specks of green in his golden irises. “How many accomplishments can I rub in your pretty little face before graduation?”

He knows just how to fluster you. Your heart picks up and you can’t get it to relax. But to your delight and his dismay, you don’t openly lose composure. All he gets is the roll of your eyes as response. “Oh, screw you, Braun.” you seethe, but it’s playful. “You’re too busy trying to flirt with me to get anything done.”

That surely pulls a reaction from him. He begins to deny with snark, and you retaliate. This happens all the time, but you and him never tire of it. You’re beautifully menacing to each others in your own special little ways.

…

[pinkmirth]

moni!!! do you have any reibert threesome thoughts!!! or even just poly reibert thoughts in general, sfw or nsfw!!! they are my boyfriends and I love them!!!

you’ve come to the right place, nonnie :) I’ve got many many many thoughts abt these two, they plague my mind 24/7 !!!

pairing: reiner x f!reader x bertholdt

summary: just a smutty drabble to fulfill the desires of reibert lovers everywhere!

content + warnings: nsfw/smut, modern au, poly themes, fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, blowjob, female bodied reader, all characters are of age (18+), minors DNI!!!

word count: 2k

— they give the best nose kisses! okay now onto the porn 😩

just imagine getting intimate with a duo like reiner and bertholdt. literal ecstasy. they’re both so endearing and patient, and it’s always their goal to smother you with love.

you plant messy kisses onto reiner’s agape lips and suck splotches of love bites across bertl’s pulse point, the lot of you eager to find a room. you wind up splayed across the bed, both men hovering at either side of you. bertholdt’s subtle grin is the last thing you catch onto before he bunches up your top, shoving it above your tits.

he leans low, face leveled with your chest. “no bra?” his sultry voice is hardly above a whisper. he exhales with desire, breath fanning your skin, while reiner’s golden eyes stick to your form. his sharp gaze brings about the shiver of anticipation that tears through you.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” mumbles reiner. he flashes a handsome smirk, one that contrasts with his usually modest nature. bertholdt sucks in a breath before placing his hot mouth onto your right breast, prying a pretty moan from you. he hums against your skin, swirling his tongue just the way you like it.

reiner follows suit, lowering himself until he’s toying with your perked nipple, trapping it between his lips. his large hand slides underneath your back, coarse fingers tracing your spine and leaving heat in its wake. you arch right up into their mouths as they grasp your tits in their warm palms.

both of their ardent stares are trained on you as they aim to please. rei and bertl aren’t the type to get competitive with one another; but during moments like these, they can’t help but race for your attention.

“fuck, you’re perfect.” with adoration, bertholdt swears. he hardly ever swears. bertl kisses around the swell of your breast, releasing a content hum when your fingers lace into his dark tresses. meanwhile, reiner busies himself by snaking a hand down your body and between your thighs, flattening his tongue to broadly lick down your sternum, his stubble grazing your flesh.

you whimper over the fervid burn of their touch, knee-deep in all the affection. softly, desperately, you begin to buck your hips, grinding against reiner’s hand. he cups your clothed cunt with his large palm, chuckling through his nose. you know what he’s thinking; probably something about how slutty and needy you get for him.

“you want me there, hm?” reiner speaks low, trapping his bottom lip under his teeth. there’s a salacious rasp to his voice, pure yearning laced within his words, “down your panties? inside you?”

your eyes lock with his lust-blown ones. you know how much he likes when you beg, plead for him in the most vulgar ways. “yes, rei. fuck my pussy, please.”

reiner gives in— but not entirely. “I hear you, baby,” he scoots aside for bertholdt to take his position, the taller man kneeling between your legs. “bertl’s gonna prep you first, m’kay?”

you watch bertholdt grasp at the hem of his navy-colored sweater and pull it off of his lean frame. it’s expected— considering how much of a mess you can make, especially when his skilled digits are delved into your walls.

he hooks his grasp onto your bottoms, giving you a knowing look. you can tell what he wants, so you do it: rising your lower half off the bed. he then drags the clothes past  your hips and off your body until it meets the floor.

all that’s left are those tiny little panties of yours. before long, reiner’s abruptly tearing them apart. while he rips and tugs, you can feel splintering threads tickle your thighs.

before long, you’re fully revealed in all your bare glory, and they just can’t manage to tear their hungry eyes away from you.

“c’mon, sweetie,” bertl shoots you the most saccharine smile, prying your legs apart, “open.” your thighs part to unveil your pussy lips sheen with arousal. he touches along your gaping cunt, relishing in the way your tightness would pulse against the pads of his fingers. he gathers your wetness and drags his digits upwards, lathering your clit and rubbing you out.

you whine aloud— it’s dulcet and naughty. the sound of your voice alone gets his dick throbbing in his pants. bertl’s swift in his motions when his lengthy finger dips into your cunt, curling upwards, knuckle-fucking-deep.

he’s too good at this; just one slim digit of his has you writhing against the sheets. profanities spill past your lips with every flick of bertl’s wrist, his other hand smoothing along your inner thigh. reiner starts to make himself useful; he plays with your soft mounds and flicks at your nipples, bearing a tiny grin. all the while, bert prods another finger past your sopping opening, now using two to feel along your walls and stretch you out just a little.

with the way bertholdt’s fingering your needy pussy, it doesn’t take much for you to cum. he’s left with drenched fingers and a painfully obvious hard-on. you peer up at him with lidded eyes and a sensual smile as he helps you ride through the climax, gracing your clit with the swipe of his thumb.

bertl then turns to the side, bringing soiled fingers up to reiner’s mouth. the other hand grips at his stubbled chin, in a way that’s gentle but firm. “taste,” bertholdt breathes out. reiner obliges. he takes the slim fingers into his mouth, licking your arousal clean off of them. it’s light and tangy, downright obscene more than anything else. bertholdt’s more than satisfied as he watches, infatuation swirling in his pale green irises.

reiner briskly inhales, pressing a chaste kiss to bert’s lips before maneuvering around to lean over your body. “he made you feel good, yeah?” his hands are set on both sides of your waist. you nod, relishing in the sensation of his warm palms rubbing back and forth. “good... my turn.” he’s cocky when he says it— his tone easily gives off just how eager he is to ruin you.

button after button, reiner undoes them until he can slip off his pesky shirt, drawing his arms out from each sleeve until his upper half is bare. he knows you like the view, given how he runs a hand down his body, from his firm chest down to his pelvis.

you drag your gaze all over him; eyeing his taut muscles and brawniness. you’re shameless with how you stare at his dirty-blonde happy trail, and that filthy glare of yours incites him to hastily undo his belt.

reiner likes— no, loves to escalate things. it’s obvious with how he wastes little time in kicking off his pants and pulling out his cock. he gives himself a languid pump, briefly bucks into his hand once or twice before grabbing your legs from the bed, setting each one upon his broad shoulders.

he kisses your calves, and you can feel the curve of his lips spreading into a smirk. his hands smooth along your legs as he slots his cock between your pussy lips, shallowly thrusting against your puffy cunt. you whine. it isn’t enough. “reiner…” to that, he emits a chuckle.

“fine, fine.” he gives one more teasing motion, taking hold of himself and tapping the head of his length against your engorged clit. with that, he presses past your gaping hole and fucks himself into you. “fuckin’ tight…” reiner utters. he groans, and you gasp. you can only find it in yourself to clutch the sheets at either side of your head.

reiner grips at your legs and picks up speed, drawing his cock back and pushing it forth, a light smack emitting with every roll of his sturdy hips. you pulse at the sensation of an especially orgasmic thrust, clenching down and pulling a sharp hiss from him. you breathe out, glossed lips agape.

you catch onto light footsteps and the rustle of the bedsheet. you impel yourself to flutter your eyes open, just be met with bertholdt’s cock; hard, smeared with precum, and bobbing right before your face. he peers down at you, eyeing how your pillowy boobs sway every time reiner fucks himself into your heat, arousal smeared upon your inner thighs and making a mess of reiner’s balls.

bertl brings his fingers towards your agape mouth, thumbing your bottom lip. he uses his unoccupied hand to jerk himself, hand swirling at the tip. “can you handle me too, baby?” his subtle voice stays sounding innocent. it’s ironic how he uses that same soft tone to ask you to swallow his dick.

you’re impatient, turning your head to the side and prodding out your tongue. he tsks, setting his digits in your mouth instead. bertholdt can feel your tongue squirm against his fingers when you suck them. he smiles, reverting his fingers out and slipping the head of his throbbing cock in.

your cheeks hollow, tongue running along the underside of him. “oh, that’s it,” his moans are faint and sweet. with a gentle touch, he holds your head in place and uses your mouth, chest rising and falling whenever your throat would constrict around him. bertl’s pace is slow in contrast to reiner, whose hips are moving a little bit faster.

reiner ogles your lips sliding along bert’s length. he loves the way you choke and spit all over the dick— it makes him fucking shudder. he takes in the lewd sight with an intent gaze and curses aloud, digging his girth further into you, your needy hole swallowing him up at each thrust.

his fingers press into your calves as he angles his hips, speedier in fucking your cunt deep. you grip against  him perfectly, to the point where there’s a stutter in his fervent movements.

you pull yourself off of bertholdt, kissing at his tip before diving back down. you release a gag, throating him sloppily, messily. you’ve got both men panting your name, all the while reiner murmurs on about how well you take them. “goddamnit,” he hisses, cheeks flushed red.

“look at you, baby… you love this, don’t you?” reiner huffs out every word. he sees the way your toes are curling above his shoulders, and it brings a subtle grin to his face. then his gaze flits down, marveling at how easily he’d slip into you, the way you accommodate every inch of him. he looks into your eyes, taking note of the dewy tears of pleasure building up at your lash line. “yeah, you fuckin’ do.”

reiner lays a hand on your tummy and presses down, urging for your second climax to intensify faster. you jolt, moans stifled around bertholdt’s cock. you arch from the bed, a delicious tension pooling in your gut. reiner does all but grin, flashing the smile of a proud bastard when you cum all over him, wetting his pelvis and soiling the sheets below you.

whenever your orgasm hits, just know that rei and bert are soon to follow. the two of them begin to slow; reiner’s got his eyes screwed shut, releasing the sluttiest of groans into the atmosphere, and bertholdt’s twitching in your mouth, head thrown back. their climaxes are bound to wash over them, so you do more. it’s purposeful when you clench against the meat of reiner’s throbbing cock, and there’s vigor in the way you push bert further down your throat, spit smearing your lips and trickling down your chin.

reiner feels the entirety of his body tense up, and his hips go still. he reverts back and pulls out; barely though, his thick cum littered across your abdomen. he heaves, a jumble of your name and incoherent words tumbling out his mouth. before long, bertholdt’s releasing onto your tongue, smacking his cockhead against your pursed lips and dirtying them with his release.

you sigh deeply, going lax on the bed. they take the courtesy of cleaning you up, wiping you down and getting you comfy. you’re tired, but content. bertl interlaces his fingers with yours, pressing a kiss to your hand, while reiner litters your cheeks with sweet little pecks. you can feel him smile against your skin.

between the three of you, it’s always a beautiful mess.

[pinkmirth]

I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH WTFFF oh my god if you’re taking requests some bertholdt bf hcs + smut would be much appriciated

THANK YOU SM NONNIE 💕! bertl’s the sweetest guy ever and I just wanna lather him in kisses :) here’s a cluster of headcanons for him because he deserves it <3

— bertholdt hoover headcanons.

pairing: bertholdt hoover x f!reader

summary: a combination of fluff (and) smutty headcanons for bert!

content + warnings: sfw content, nsfw/smut, all characters are aged up (18+), somnophilia, size kink, oral (female and male receiving), female bodied reader, minors DNI with the nsfw segment of this post!

word count: 800+

( SFW! )

his body always feels really warm. bertl’s literally a walking heater. considering this, you have no clue why he’s always wearing long sleeves and fluffy sweaters.

has tons of coins in his pockets. tell this mf to get a piggy bank because you can hear all his loose change jangling around whenever he walks :0

he’s a menace in his own way ‘cause he can sleep in just about anything. dude gets so tired that he casually ends up falling asleep in something like jeans…

adding onto this by saying that he falls asleep anywhere. a simple park date between the two of you results in him dozing off on a bench.

bertholdt does pottery! he’s made a whole set of plates, bowls, vases and mugs for your kitchen and it's the sweetest thing ever.

this man cracks his fingers a lot. he just be poppin’ them hoes all the time.

he has really long lashes; to be more specific, bertholdt just the prettiest eyes ever. the soft look in his pale green irises makes him seem so sweet.

he’s accidentally kicked a child before… in his defense, with his height he could hardly see the poor kid 😭

for whatever reason, he isn’t very fond of armin. (because you were dared to kiss the blonde at a party and he hasn’t let it go since :/)

bertl loves applesauce. don't ask why, he just does.

he acts as though you guys aren’t an official couple sometimes, it's as if he’s still in the crush phase. like, he’ll get all flustered when you shoot him a nice compliment, or if there’s the slightest hint of physical contact between you, he’s blushing like a middle schooler that’s got a bad case of puppy love. he just can’t seem to get used to the affection. you’re just like ‘haven’t we been dating for forever now???’

he falls for people really easily, love at first sight type shit. it’s probably rooted in his yearn for others to truly acknowledge him.

bertholdt is extremely (scarily) punctual. he prefers going somewhere an hour early rather than a minute late.

gets annoyed really easily, but lets things go even quicker. you could watch him roll his eyes over something and he’s smiling a second later like boy I thought you were mad 😭!?!??

he’s adopted the habit of putting his feet on you just to mess with you. it’s annoyingly cute.

he’s always beside you. it’s that he’s either latched onto your arm, or standing behind you with his hand on your hip. bertl’s so touchy and doesn’t even notice it, he just wants to be close to you. he’s the literal epitome of following someone around like a lost puppy.

loves to wrap his arms around your torso. he feels big and confident when encircling your middle and pulling you close to him, and he utterly loves how you lean into him. he just absorbs your warmth with red-tinted cheeks and a rapidly beating heart.

( NSFW! )

this man goes crazy for (consented!) somnophilia. whether it be on you or him, he doesn’t care— he just loves it.

you commonly wake up to his pussy-drunk self making out with your cunt. he scrutinizes your expressions, takes in your breathy moans, peering up at you with such pleading eyes. he’s begging you to let go, to cum in his mouth. he lets out the lewdest sounds when you finally release, drinking up your essence and licking you clean.

and when you surprise him with a blowjob while he’s asleep? that’s what he likes to call paradise. once he wakes, he's growing stiff against your spit-lathered lips, softly moaning over the lazy pump of your hand running against his shaft. climaxes so fast that it’s practically embarrassing. he dirties your face with his cum, his chest heaving and face painted with scattered blush.

absolute king at fingering omgg!!! he knows how to put those lithe fingers to work. just one digit can make a total mess out of you.

his happy trail is a beauty to behold. whenever his lean frame is revealed, you can’t tear your eyes away from his pelivs. just yes.

big dick bertholdt!!!!!!!!! must I say more?

he hits so fucking deep, I don’t think he realizes how big he is. the shallowest thrust from him is already hitting your guts like damn. he’ll never get over how he’s able to make you to fall apart so quickly.

SIZE KINK SIZE KINK SIZE KIIINK! did I say size kink? because he fucking loves that. having sex with you really opens his eyes to how big he is. because fuck, how is he able to tower over you so easily? he’d never admit to how cocky it makes him; being able to bend you to his will, with the help of his huge hands, convincing smile, and long fucking cock.

[pinkmirth]

— overtime | nanami kento

pairing: corporate!nanami kento x fem!reader

summary: DAY (ONE) OF KINKTOBER ~ who knew that working after hours with your manager would end up with your panties on the floor?

content warnings: nsfw/smut, makeshift bondage with a tie, dirty talk, coworker sex, cunnilingus, use of feminine pet name (good girl), unprotected sex, female bodied reader with g/n pronouns, all characters are (18+), minors dni!

word count: 3.2k

a/n: kink(s): bondage!

You’d usually be done with work by now. 5PM hits and you’re making your way out of the corporate building, beelining towards the nearest train ride home.

That’s why you find the situation you're in to be so unintended— working after hours, all for the sake of your sexy manager.

Files upon files make a mess of Nanami’s desk, and you aid him by looking through every single paper in need of inspection. Your glossed lips stretch wide to release a yawn, and it only causes a chain reaction. Kento gives in to the contagious set of yawns overtaking him. You glance his way, watching how he rubs at his temple with lithe fingers.

“You should've gone home.” his tired eyes flit your way, and you find yourself utterly melting at the sight of his deep brown irises. Somehow, you find a way to keep composed. “But you’d be all alone if I did,” you counter, flashing the slightest grin. You can't deny that he’s right, though. You had all the opportunity to make your way home, yet you opted on working overtime to help Nanami with his strenuous workload.

He swirls a ballpoint pen between his slim digits before setting it down. “... you have a point,” he gives in, the corners of his mouth upturning ever so slightly. You're not exactly able to say that it’s a smile. More like a silent chuckle.

Maybe it’s your admiration for him that’s talking, but there’s some sort of undeniable connection between the both of you, and being alone with him only makes it clearer. It’s like that of a subtle craving— where you yearn to sink your teeth and burn your touch into something that’s completely off-limits.

Kento exhales, then looks at you for a solid moment or more. You're unsure as to why his gaze is so trained on you, and not even five seconds pass before you’re so close to wavering underneath the pressure. You wish he’d just look away already, so he won't be able to catch onto the flattered smile overtaking your features. He’s seated at the head of the desk while you’re perched right across from him; meaning that the eye contact’s practically unavoidable.

“You’ve been a great help to me today,” his words are simple as can be, yet you’ve never felt so complimented in your entire life. You can't determine whether he’s genuinely voicing his gratitude for your assistance, or if he’s making something of an attempt at flirting.

When he does a subtle lean forward, you decide that it’s the latter. You go quiet, lips pressed shut. You can't help the intense thrum of your heart when he’s peering at you with such solace; like you’re his definition of relief, the answer to all his problems.

“You’re always going the extra mile. I’m impressed, y’know.” Kento’s voice goes low, his volume as intimate as a whisper. He leans even further, and the prominence of his cheekbones and structured nose is all the more attractive up close.

He can tell— you want this. To overstep the boundaries between a manager and employee until the line between is permanently blurred. To get so entangled that you see him as your source of pleasure rather than some stereotypically mingy boss.

You take a soft, borderline shaky inhale. His scent leaves you thinking of smoothly flat-ironed dress shirts, pricey cologne and first-class trips to France. His free hand snakes towards yours, gently grasping your palm. He’s slow with his motions, but it surely isn't hesitance. It’s pure desire.

You find yourself going weak over his mere touch. The pads of his fingers grazing your skin feels like heaven itself. Before you’re able to get too lost in the moment, you think, ‘Why hook up with your boss of all people?’

Sure, the pair of you are coworkers. Funnily enough, neither of you can bring yourselves to care. With the way his breath softly puffs onto your lips, it's obvious that you're way past professionalism. The tip of his straight nose grazes yours, and you lightly gasp at the narrowing proximity. Whatever he’s initiating, all you know is you’ll give in without question.

When combining burnout, pining, and two exhausted adults with a libido as high as the stack of papers on the desk, you get this— Nanami’s large hand cradling your neck to pull you in, lips eagerly meeting with no regret.

You’re pleasantly surprised when he presses his mouth on yours with sheer need, swallowing the moans out of your mouth and planting the hottest kisses upon your agape lips. Your teeth bumb and click, tongues enveloping the other’s messily. It’s nothing short of surreal to be making out with the man you dream about, hands grasping at his forearms like your life depends on it.

You've surely imagined a moment like this with him; piping hot love-making between colleagues, all within a bland-walled office. Everyone’s heard of the trope in one way or another— but the ecstasy that comes with breaking that professional barrier was greater than you imagined.

You're both short on breath when drawing away from each other, lips sheen with saliva. He’s quick with pecking your lips, forehead resting against your own. “You want this?” he queries, voice hoarse with raw arousal. The consequences don’t come to mind when you voice out your genuine crave for his touch. “Yes, Nanami,” you whine to him. Before you make another plea, he’s made his way around the table and is at your side, taking firm hold of your hips and setting you onto the desk, papers and pens of all sorts cast aside.

“You’ve been doing so well, working so hard...” he perches himself between your legs, breathing his words aloud beside your ear. He crouches to his knees, dark brown eyes peering up into your lust-blown ones.

His hands trail down your hips, kneading at your sides through your clothing. He wants to repay the favor for all your efforts, so you let him. A bashful nod is just what he needs to go on, his fingers taking hold of the zipper of your bottoms until he’s shimmied them down your thighs and past your ankles, your pencil skirt now strewn across the ground.

It’s dim in his office, a warm orange-ish light that hardly illuminates a thing. Despite that, he can still make out the wet patch on your arousal-stained panties. He lets out the briefest chuckle over the sight, the pads of his fingers inching up your inner thighs.

Kento’s touch is feather-light, a contrast to his sharp gaze. His fingers curl around the hem of your panties, dragging them further and further down, his eyes on you all the while.

His actions leave you a mess, and he hasn’t even buried his face into your most intimate areas yet. Then, he does it— briefly licking his lips moments before diving face-forward into your dripping pussy. The first stroke of his swift tongue on your sensitive clit feels so right. You’ve needed this bad.

“Oh, fuck,” you release a breathless moan, and it stirs him up from the inside out. His big hands grab at the meat of your hips, all in an attempt to drag you closer to his agile mouth, to lap at you some more. His dick lies stiffened in his tight slacks, brows furrowed as he plunges his tongue in farther, moans reverberating off of his mouth and into your cunt. He drinks you down like he was born thirsty, savors the taste of your tart essence while using his tongue to greedily gasp in more.

Nanami isn’t anywhere close to being done with you, yet you’re trembling like the pair of you have already gone through three rounds. Soon enough, your back’s in an arch and your pretty body’s utterly trembling, all from the work of his eager mouth.

You’re so close to reaching ecstasy, and him running the tip of his tongue across your wet slit and suckling on your puffy bud is more than enough to get you toppling over the edge.

“Kento—!” It’s a silent scream of pleasure, all breathy and muffled; but he hears you well. You're nothing but sensitive and wet, whimpering over the raw pleasure while dragging your hips back and forth, grinding on his tongue and cumming in his mouth. Your fingers swiftly lace themselves within his hair and tug at his short blonde tresses. He hisses at the sensation of your tense grip, your thighs quivering against each side of his head.

Your breaths are labored, inner thighs wetly soiled with your arousal and Nanami’s spit.

Before you can regain yourself, a low thud abruptly resounds, which shoves a shard of guilt down your throat and leaves your stomach tightening uncomfortably. The last thing you want is to get caught with him.

“Relax,” Nanami coos, voice smooth and assuring. “I’m just taking off my clothes.” your eyes flit downwards to be met with his blazer and shoes littering the floor.

“It’s only you ‘n me…” Kento affirms, and you nod. In a matter of seconds, he’s kissing you deep, your hands roaming his broad shoulders. When breaking away, his affection lingers on your swollen lips.

Nanami flashes a brief, soft grin, the most genuine one you’ve ever seen from him. He continues to shed every article of clothing one by one, and that smile of his is shifting into more of a smirk as he goes on.

He draws his arms out of the sleeves, biceps flexing when loosening the tie that remained looped around his neck, nimble and veined hands reaching for the zipper of his tight trousers.

Your intent stare is shamelessly vulgar, eying his every movement while he reveals the most intimate part of himself to you. His pants hit the floor, slacks pooled at his ankles before he steps out of them. The way his cock strains against the thin material of his boxers is downright teasing.

You grow confused when Nanami grabs for your hand, shooting you a knowing look. You come to understand his intent when he places your touch directly on his crotch with a groan. He can practically feel your ardor streaming through your fingertips and onto his dick.

You hungrily paw at his hot length, lightly moaning over every throb and pulse. He’s just as long as he’s thick, so fucking big. You gulp down your wanton urge to shove all of him down your throat, to feel the weight of his girth resting on your salivating tongue.

“Y’feel that?” Kento lowly purrs, and you gasp out another moan as a response. He leans in close, mouth aligned with the shell of your ear. “Touch it good,” he lets out a suave, titillating growl, “‘cause soon enough, your hands are gonna be all the way up here.” Kento takes hold of your wrists, pinning them together in one large hand and holding them to your chest.

“— You’re into that?” you question him with intrigue, wetting your lips with the swift flick of your tongue. “Mhm,” he hums low, nipping at the delicate junction of your neck. The way you squirm with anticipation lets him know that you wouldn’t mind your hands restricted during a thorough fuck.

He presses a sparing kiss to your lips before easing you down on the desk, drinking in just how pretty you look when splayed there all needy for him; with blooming hickeys gracing your thighs, saliva glossing your lips, along with your cunt looking so sloppy and lascivious; the valley of your breasts on display through your unbuttoned shirt.

Air catches in your throat when he finally slips his endowed cock out of it’s refines— the sight of him and his dark blonde happy trail leaves you fucking salivating.

“— holy shit,” you gasp at the way he smacks his leaking tip against your throbbing clit, gathering your slick by rubbing himself against your wet slit.

“Kento,” you mewl out of impatience, for he can tell you want him inside, and now. He merely lets out a silent nose-laugh, removing the tie from his neck. “Hands.” he beckons for you, and you listen; pliant when he wraps and loops his silk tie around your wrists. You tug at it, but he’s binded your hands too taut to give space for movement.

“It isn't too much?” he queries, his tone calm and soothing as always. “I— it’s okay, it’s fine,” you ramble, heat rapidly building within your core. It’s like he can read your mind; or maybe it's the eager twitching of your body that lets him know just how ready you are to be stuffed with his dick. You put in no effort to hide your desire, making lewd attempts at jerking your hips closer to him, his shaft sliding against your wetness just the way you like it.

His own hips rock forward, and he seethes out a grunt. “Be— fuck, be patient,” the hold of Kento’s palms at your sides is rigid, easily stilling your whorish movements. “Be a good girl for me, ‘kay?” You elicit a whiny huff before giving in, halting the sway of your body.

He grins to himself— you're like putty in his hands. There’s comfort in the way he holds and molds you, to make you the perfect fit for his hard cock.

“You're so ready for this, aren't you?” whispers Nanami, using his thumb to press tight circles on your tender clit. You sputter out a moan, and your volume only increases when he plunges his slim fingers into your cunt, knuckles grazing against your puffy bundle of nerves. Your eyes grow glossed with pleasure as you jolt into his touch with parted lips.

“Fuck, I bet you’ve dreamt about this… about us.” his grunted words hit home, for it's all true. You've wanted him for the longest, since you set eyes on him at some obscure bakery about a year ago. He hopes you know that he feels the exact same; that he’s always wanted to please you, to have you this close to him for as long as he can remember.

Seconds pass, and his fingers are eventually replaced with something much bigger and warmer, something that makes the stretch sting when pressing past your pussy lips and inside of you. Kento directs his cockhead into your pulsing hole, using his other hand to grip at your chin.

“Look at me when I fuck you.”

You love his girth and how it splits you open, and you love the way his crude words make you wetter with every fucking syllable that tumbles past his lips. He pulls himself out and eases back in until he physically can't resist the way you're sucking him in, a frothy ring of cum decorating the base of his shaft. He hisses, throbbing balls snug against your ass as he bottoms out. “Fuck,” Nanami chokes out a deep moan over the way you squeeze him, your pussy walls massaging every inch of his dick with the way you pusle around his hot girth.

It doesn't take long for him to grow reckless, resting his forehead upon yours while rutting into you, groaning against your lips with his brows knitted tight, body tense. His hips roll back and forth, pushing his cock in deep before dragging it out, penetrating your dripping heat so good and hard that you're trying to claw your hands out of the tie just to wrap your arms around him and make a mess of his broadened back.

“Ken!” You brokenly wail. He wracks breathless sobs from right out of your mouth. The sound of skin on skin resounds in the stuffy office, Kento pounding into you as though all he’s good for is pumping his dick into your pretty pussy.

“Wanna touch you, Kento,” you plead, your breathing sporadic. He clicks his teeth, one hand running underneath your loose shirt to squeeze at your bouncing tits. “Nuh-uh,” he tuts, and you whine when he denies you. “no touching, just take it.” and with that, his jackhammering thrusts grow so fervent that every desperate rock of his hips has his swinging balls making lewd contact with your ass, wet smacks resounding while his pelvis bumps your clit.

You try to cry out his name, but moans in the form of white noise is all that spills past your lips. Your mind goes hazy, brain fogged with dick. His pace is merciless, bullying his way into your soaking hole nonstop. He’s frantic when gracing your neck with messy, open mouthed kisses, his nerves on fire when digging his length further into your walls. The desk attempts to uphold yours and Nanami’s weight on it’s four trembling legs. You're nearing your second climax of the night, cunt squeezing at your boss’s cock.

Kento angles your hips upwards, putting all his energy into making your upcoming orgasm the best you ever had. He’s drilling you faster, harder, deeper. When you finally unravel, clenching on his twitching cock, you're so over wired with pleasure that your body fizzles and sparks from his ministrations on your spent cunt, shuddering when hitting your peak and creaming all over him. Nanami’s fingers catch onto your clit, toying with the bud to help you ride it out.

“So good— shit, feels so fuckin’ good,” in the midst of his dazed rasping, his breath hitches, balls tightening over the sensation of your over-stimmed pussy. You throb and throb, bringing about his slamming hips beginning to stutter, how his knees buckle, and the way he gives you one last, sloppily rough thrust before pouring himself into you, smearing your inner walls with his hot cum.

By the time he comes down to earth, the first thing in his line of vision is your cunt; filled to the brim. His seed spills its way past your fluttering pussy and makes a mess of his mahogany desk— there's now a suggestive pool of white. Despite the heavy trace of exhaustion in his hooded eyes, his exhale reeks of satisfaction.

He pulls at the tie, loosening it from your achy wrists before gracing your knuckles with feather-soft pecks. “You did good,” Kento huffs, his distinct cheekbones dusted pink. He’s somewhat winded, but content. You bear a sweet smile in return, lacing your arms around his neck and pulling him in. It’s much easier to dote on him this way.

“So,” you murmur between kisses, fingertips grazing his nape. He grins against your lips before you continue, “does this mean I’m gettin’ a raise?”

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[pinkmirth]

imagine being able to convince eren’s stubborn self into putting on a pretty lil’ pencil skirt. the length rests above his knees and has a deep slit on the left thigh. your ultimate fantasy is dressing up your boyfriend in a slutty skirt— one so short that it leaves not a thing to the imagination, his dick practically peeking through.

he wouldn’t dare admit it, but with his slim hips being hugged by the skimpy skirt and his long dark hair brushed all nice and neat, he feels so fucking pretty. you coo at him, your pretty boy, with the brightest grin and a sparkle of arousal in your eyes.

when you press a kiss to his cheek and hug him tight, he feels himself melt underneath your touch. soon enough, after a good few minutes of making out, lacing your fingers within his lengthy hair, and ruining the sweet ‘n pink strawberry lip gloss he applied to his soft lips, he’s officially turned on. he groans low, cock stiffening underneath that cute skirt of his. it’s painfully obvious, too— there’s a suggestive bulge tenting underneath the scanty fabric, and his skirt seems significantly shorter now.

“fuck, babe, stop looking…” he utters, tugging at the hem of the skirt with his thick brows furrowed, cheeks dusted pink. you set a hand on his broad chest and flash him a glossy smile, toying with the spaghetti straps of his crop top. loads of precum is already spilling from Eren’s sensitive tip, wetting his shaft and making a mess of his inner thighs and balls. when you reach your unoccupied hand under the cloth and firmly wrap your eager fingers around his throbbing cock, he just can’t find it in himself to stifle his dulcet moans.

[pinkmirth]

— fuck me, connie springer <3

pairing: connie springer x f!reader

summary: the result you get when adding connie, being horny, and unparalleled amounts of energy all together.

content warnings | nsfw/smut, doggie style, missionary, a lil bit of pussy slapping, unprotected sex, soft dom!connie, explicit language, me being an utter whore for con’s fine self </3

word count: 700+

imagine getting fucked by none other than connie. his stamina is a blessing to the both of you, hips rutting into you at a hastily quick rate, his grip on your waist and ass so fervent that it almost hurts.

he made it clear beforehand, he wants you right now, hell, he needs you right now, and pleaded for your forgiveness if he ended up going too rough. little does he know that you love nothing more than when he grows (somewhat) serious and fucks your lights out.

he starts off with raw dogging, where he can pound into your sopping cunt so hard and hit places so deep that the only fucking thing in your current vocabulary is his name.

fuck, ’con, is the mantra you babble aloud, wispy moans spilling past your lips as he scoops you up in his arms and turns you over, now laying on your back. what a view it is, lidded eyes overtaken with raw lust, splotches of love bites gracing your supple skin, tits sloping to the side, with your legs resting along his shoulders, right where he set them to be.

he leans low to press soft, endearing kisses to your lips, gives your breasts a light squeeze, and planting light smacks on your sensitive pussy, the pads of his fingers toying with your clit.

”— mm, y’ready, babe?” he softly questions against your lips. considering that you’re too fucked out to give a proper response, the soft grin you flash in reply is more than enough. he smiles right back before easing himself in, hands grasping at either one of your legs as the pace picks up speedily.

he finds himself doing it again, going so damn fast that his brain can’t keep up with the movement of his body striving to reach that high, attempting to get to a state of euphoria and bring you right with him. you pant underneath him and take it all, but not without clamping your spongy walls down on the girth of his dick.

“you’re tight as fuck,” he heaves, tightly grasping onto either one of your legs. he makes sharp inhales over every clench of your pussy, pulsing at the underside in response.

he gradually slows before coming to a full halt, peering at where you and him intimately meet before his hazel eyes flit up to yours. what a pretty little mess you are, just for him.

connie mischievously gleams before giving your puffy cunt an abrupt slap, pressure directed right at the clit. “y‘gonna cum? hm?” he switches the pace with a sweet but domineering grin on his face all the while. opting towards something slower, his thrusts go at the same rate that he rubs at your puffy bud with.

the lengthy drag of his dick pulling out and pushing in has you seeing stars, and the sensation alone causes the volume of your moans to increase by tenfold. to that, he smiles. “yes, yes!” you mewl, taking hold of him and pulling him down to your level. the tip of his nose brushes against yours, his tongue teasingly swiping over your lower lip.

“c’mon, cum for me, cum on this dick.” he suddenly goes so pleasurably fast that you can’t help but do as he wishes, reaching your utmost high before falling apart.

he chuckles low over the way your back arches, hands clawing at his back. ”fuck yeah, that’s my girl,” connie grunts, following your lead shortly after. he’s quick to slide out of you, his warm cum spilling onto your abdomen and littering your skin, while the remaining makes a mess of his swollen tip before dripping down the shaft.

you release a light laugh while basking in the aftermath, noting at how the warmth of his body on yours makes the ache in your legs just a bit more bearable. he hums your name aloud, pecking your lips before asking— “wanna go again?”

judging by the eager expression that graced his pretty features, you could tell that he was nowhere near finished.

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[pinkmirth]

— sugar rush | sero hanta (nsfw)

pairing: aged up!sero hanta x f!reader

summary: it’s hanta’s big day, and you’ve got all the things needed to make his birthday dreams come true— sloppy neck kisses and some cake.

content warnings | nsfw/smut, all characters are of age (18+), established relationship, food play with cake frosting, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, creampie, female bodied reader with g/n pronouns, explicit language, minors dni!

wc: 2.5k

author’s note: happy belated birthday to my boyfie hanta! ( the sero fanart above is from @DSH_0 on Twitter! )

“You’ve been lookin’ at me like that all night,” Sero muses. You gaze back up at him with feigned unawareness, pursing your lips before they curve into a sweet smile. “Like what?”

He swings the apartment’s front door wide open, letting you slip through the entryway; but not without landing a teasing smack on your butt while you stroll past him. He squeezes the fat of your ass, and you swat him away with a playful gasp. “Just get in the house already, ‘Han...” you crane your neck to peer his way, lips upturning into a grin that looks just as cheeky as his own.

“I’m talkin’ about that, babe! That look on your pretty lil’ face,” in a flash, he’s encircling his arms around your waist from behind. His exceptional height requires him to lean low so he can press feather-like kisses along your jaw. Bursts of laughter leave your lips, and you feel the way he smiles against your skin. “Can’t I admire my man on his birthday?”

“I’m talkin’ about that, babe! That look on your pretty lil’ face,” in a flash, he’s encircling his arms around your waist from behind. His exceptional height requires him to lean low so he can press feather-like kisses along your jaw. Bursts of laughter leave your lips, and you feel the way he smiles against your skin. “Can’t I admire my man on his birthday?”

He smirks before dropping the volume of his voice, mouth leveled with your ear as he questions you lowly. “You have something planned, bebé?”

“Maybe,” you hum in response, grasping onto his bicep for a sense of balance while you kick off your shoes. “Just follow me, yeah?” He’s quick to comply, and you take hold of his wrist and lead him past the coat rack, around the couch, and over to the kitchen.

One glance at the inviting cake that sat pretty on the dining table is enough to get Sero giddy. “I got somebody to drop it off here while we were out,” you tell him, and he silently replies with a wide, genuine grin.

“My favorite cake from my favorite bakery, huh? You know me so well,” Sero coos, and you giggle over the way he dashes towards the dessert, dipping a finger into the frosting and swiping some into his mouth like a little kid. He’d had his fill of wheat noodles and hot pots for the night, but he could certainly make space for a slice of cake or two.

Hanta scours the kitchen for a fork before taking a seat at the table, shoveling pieces of the sugary dessert into his mouth. You merely watch and laugh with a hand resting on his shoulder, for he wasn't the type to intake sweets often. “Don’t finish it too quick, ‘Han.”

“No promises...” Is what he utters, licking his lips clean of any frosting residue. He darts out his tongue and swipes it along the corners of his mouth, and you’re sure that he doesn’t have the right to look so damned good while doing so.

You perch yourself into the seat beside Sero, purposely scooting the chair closer to him in order to make the proximity slim. “Could I have a taste?” You murmur aloud, and he turns your way. “Yeah, of course! Here,” he scoops up a piece and brings it to your mouth, watching how your lips part expectantly to take a bite.

You let the taste of buttercream simmer on your tongue, resting your head upon his shoulder. “... ‘Han, d'you remember when we held a party back at Yuuei for your sixteenth?” Hanta recalls the memory with a hearty laugh, and the fact that it’s been a good five years since then has him thinking about time; how it just flies and never stops.

“That one time when Denki smashed the cake into my face?” he scoffs playfully when reminiscing all those high school antics, “how could I forget?” You’re shooting him one of those intriguing glances again, the subtle gleam in your eye showcasing that you must be up  to something.

You lean close towards Hanta, and the intimacy of his nose grazing yours with legs touching underneath the table, has the pair of you smiling and giggling. Every happy grin and glance you and him exchange is nothing new, like it’s this coupley type of familiarity.

“Now I’m thinkin’ about the way that frosting got all over you,” you utter. He finds it rather abrupt, how you run your tongue along your teeth before nibbling at his earlobe. Sero releases a low gasp, breath catching within his throat. Before long, his lips curve upwards into the prettiest grin, anticipating your next display of affection. Your hand runs across his firm thigh, while the other fumbles with the buttons on his formal dress shirt, popping them out one by one.

With Hanta’s buttons undone, it leaves his lean but muscular  build exposed for your viewing pleasure. You press a palm against his broad chest, and his hand moves up to catch your wrist within his hold. “What’re you doing? Not that I’ll stop you,” he chuckles, and you feel the rumble of his laughter vibrating onto your touch.

“Making memories, Hanta.” You whisper hushedly, bringing about the confused rise of his brows.

Sero swears that he’s slick, for he’s so sure he could get away with just about anything undetected— but you notice the way he tilts his neck to the side all too quickly, catching onto how he’s silently urging you to put a mark or two on his slightly tanned skin. His desire is as broad as daylight, just like yours.

Wasting no time, you latch your lips onto his neck, and he groans low in return. Inching further down and swirling your tongue on the supple skin of his collarbone gets him hot in the face, and the heat flows through him before it rushes on down. The way you’re sucking a pretty love bite onto his undecorated body has him wanting even more; Hanta’s damn lucky that this is hardly the beginning.

Then comes your erotic little surprise, the one that you’d probably been thinking of since the first hours of the night. It’s sudden when you do so, but it has him finally understanding what you'd meant earlier. While he’d been busy reveling in arousal with his eyes fluttered closed, you were dipping naughty fingers into the cake with a purpose.

The sensation of frosting gracing Sero’s skin has him blinking his eyes wide open. You lather it on him, smearing it from his chest to his abdomen with a wicked smile, and he practically moans over the feeling. “S’just like the time when you got cake all over you, yeah?” He wants to wipe that smug look off your face, kiss it off, actually. Between the two of you, he’s the one who makes the sly remarks. Though, being on the receiving end was all the more enjoyable.

You bring your index finger up to your pursed lips, ridding your digit of sugary icing with the help of your active tongue. Hanta eyes you all the while, cheeks flushed pink with his chest rising and falling in anticipation. He swipes a hand through the onyx tresses of his voluminous mullet-style hair, lifting a brow.

“You like makin’ messes, hm?” he says lowly, unashamedly pulling you into a kiss. It’s sickeningly sweet, more so than usual thanks to all the frosting that sat atop the tips of your tongues.

You moan onto his lips, and he laughs deeply against yours before mumbling something aloud. He flits his dark brown eyes downwards, hinting at the mess you made of him.

“Lick it clean.”

His cake-dirtied body couldn’t stay unattended any longer. You’re fast to comply, for this is what you’d wanted from the start. You begin at his pelvis, glancing at his subtle happy trail before licking a teasing stripe up his body. As you go higher and let your smooth tongue across his form, you get more and more delightfully dizzied by the overpoweringly saccharine taste. By the last lick, you’re flattening your wet muscle across his collarbone; yet you’re far from finished.

Hanta merely enjoys it all, easing back into his chair when your hands make hasty work of his belt, slipping it out of the loops. Before you can unzip his pants and pull them down until they’re pooling at his ankles, he stops you. “No need, bebita.” he smiles. Albeit the endearing expression he bears, you know of his intent— To wreck you with pleasure.

You sit back just as he tells you to, while he stands to his feet and discards his clothes all by himself. The dress shirt drifts it’s way to the ground, and he tugs off his slacks before kicking them to the side. All that’s left is his thinly silver chain that greatly accentuates all those hickeys adorning his neck, and a pair of skin-tight boxers that left not a thing to the imagination.

“C’mere,” mumbles Hanta, ushering you to stand up with him. You’re unsure on what to focus your attention on; his alluring smile that consisted of flawless pearly whites and extremely soft lips, or the unabashed bulge that prodded against the restrictive underwear he wore.

Though, there’s no need to choose when you could opt for both. You grin right back, eyes dragging along his clothed hard-on before you take his hand and allow him to spin you the other way, your back facing him as you brace all your weight onto your forearms, resting upon the marble table.

Hanta rubs your sides and leans down to press a kiss on your shoulder before ridding you of every cloth that could get in the way. He wants to feel you on him, body to body, in the same way that the sticky, sugary icing caked his lean frame and stuck to him.

You release a sharp gasp over the feeling of his tip nudging against your slick. With lidded eyes and a wide smile, Hanta pushes past the ring of muscle until he’s delved inside of you about halfway, palming your ass while his unoccupied hand laid restive on your back, fingers playfully trailing your spine.

Every motion that sheathes Sero inside deeper has you stammering for him, bucking your body back in search of a sense of fullness that just couldn’t be topped. You want him, his dick, all the way in. Just as you open your mouth to plead, he reverts back, pulling out and leaving you whining.

“C’mon, Hanta…” you huff. He leans forward, chest pressed to your arched back. Even in your peripheral, you catch sight of his trademark beam. “C’mon what? Gotta be specific,” you’re in no mood for his taunting ways, but he decides to test your patience anyway. You rock your ass onto his stiff length eagerly, earning a breathy hiss from him.

“Want you— need you inside,” you correct, and the way he plunges back into your wetness shows that all you said was more than enough. You cry out over the ecstasy of being filled to the brim, pussy gripping at his girth fervently. Hanta groans into your ear, rolling his hips at an easy pace.

“Damn,” Hanta whistles low, for your essence is already coating him from the tip to the shaft, wetting his balls and inner thighs, “you’re so fuckin’ good for me...” He knows he has an undeniable charm, but sometimes he can hardly believe the impact he has on you, even when he hasn’t even lifted a finger to get you drenching your panties.

The motion of your colliding bodies isn’t as slow anymore, and his hips smacking against your ass, balls wetly slapping your clit, causes the lewdest sounds to elicit into the air. Hanta stares at the ripple of your body with every thrust, cheeks blooming red with pride. He clearly knows a thing or two on how to make you feel good— judging by the way you claw onto the table with an iron grip, tongue lolling past your glossy lips as your moans never cease— and he couldn’t be happier about it.

A combination of his name and loose profanities are what you repeat by every passing second, brows furrowing in pleasure when he pounds your cunt just the way you like it. You tighten around the thickness of his cock, an undeniable pressure in your gut growing just as fast as he fucks you.

“‘Han—!” You whimper aloud with your head resting upon the table, legs wobbling from his increase in speed. You can’t manage to get another word out, not when he’s fucking you against this marble surface as if both your life and his depends on how hard he can make you cum with his cock, how much he can get you shaking and moaning with every deep stroke, how limp and achy you’ll be by the end of it all.

You sense the way he twitches and pulses, how sloppy he’s getting with pumping his dick into you, how his labored breaths are heavier with every swift roll of his hips. Hanta throws his head back with a loud groan, allowing the gratifying orgasm take over his being and wrack through him like that of a great, crashing wave.

You lurch forwards with your eyes rolled back, meeting your own awaited high when he makes one last deep, impacting thrust. You shudder over the feeling of thick, warm ropes spurting onto your inner walls, making a sharp inhale while clenching on his pulsing dick.

Sero stills himself inside of you instead of pulling out per usual, keeping every ounce of cum stuffed within your sensitive cunt.

His large, warm hands rub along your hips and waist once again, and he leans your way to tenderly kiss and nip at your neck with agape lips, perfect teeth and a teasing attitude, just as he did when you and him first made it back home.

“Hey, baby,” he coos, and you smile tiredly in response, letting the table take the responsibility of holding your weight. “We should get another cake, don’t y’think?”

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